rajira  raiirgJ! 


er  cat*.  UMAIT.  ws  AWCTLES 


" — AND  TURNING  SUDDENLY,  THEY  BEHELD,  WITH  A 
POOR  LITTLE  COTTON  HANDKERCHIEF  PRESSED  TO  HER 
EYES,  THE  FORLORN  FIGURE  WHICH  HAD  JUST  BEEN  SO 
APTLY  DESCRIBED." 


THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE 


A  STORY 


MARY  C.  HUNGERFORD 


ILLUSTRATED 


NEW   YORK:    EATON    &    MAINS 
CINCINNATI:   CURTS  &.  JENNINGS 


Copyright,  1891.  by 

H  U  X  T     &     EATON, 

NK\V  YORK. 


DEDICATION. 


AS  AN  EVIDENCE  OF  MY  WARM  REGARD  FOR  HER. 


THIS  LITTLE  STORY  OF  SCHOOL  LIFE 

TO   MY  YOUNG  FRIEND, 
MISS    SALL.Y    T.    CLARK, 

OF   NEW    HAVEN. 


2130433 


CONTENTS, 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  MR.  BELLAMY'S  OFFER 7 

II.  NEXT  TERM 16 

III.  IN  KATIE'S  ROOM 25 

IV.  MRS.  ABBOTT'S  EXPLANATION 31 

V.  MARY  ANN  STUBBS 41 

VI.  MARY  ANN'S  CHARGE 48 

VII.  ELFIE  TELLS  A  STORY 55 

VIII.  A  RAINY  DAY 62 

IX.  SOME  LEAVES  FROM  A  DIARY 70 

X.  A  MEAN  ACT 79 

XI.  THE  S.  C.'s 88 

XII.  DRESSING  DOLLS 96 

XIII.  THE   COMMITTEE   BUY   RIBBONS  AND  MAKE  AN 

ACQUAINTANCE 102 

XIV.  THE  ADVENTURE  DISCUSSED no 

XV.  THE  WHITE  QUEEN 117 


6  CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER  PAGE 

XVI.  IN  MRS.  ABBOTT'S  ROOM 126 

XVII.  LILY'S  PREACHMENT 132 

XVIII.  IN  VACATION 141 

XIX.  A  HAPPY  DAY 148 

XX.  LETTERS 153 

XXI.  IN  KATIE'S  HOME 162 

XXII.  THE  CHRISTMAS-TREE'S  SECOND  CROP 172 

XXIII.  THE  LETTER  IN  CIPHER 181 

XXIV.  CATCHING  A  TRAIN 190 

XXV.  THE  SPHINX * 198 

XXVI.  ELFIE  GONE! 209 

XXVII.  ON  THE  ROAD 213 

XXVIII.  A  TRAVELING  ACQUAINTANCE  221 

XXIX.  WATCHING  AND  WAITING 230 

XXX.  IN  TROY 239 

XXXI.  AN  EXCITING  NIGHT 246 

XXXII.  A  DEEP  SLEEP 252 

XXXIII.  MARION  is  HAPPY 259 

XXXIV.  THE  PRIZE  AWARDED 272 


THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 


CHAPTER   I. 

MR.    BELLAMY'S    OFFER. 

THERE  were  neither  examinations  nor  grad- 
uation exercises  at  the  Coventry  Institute. 
The  only  ceremony  peculiar  to  the  last  day  of 
school,  except  the  farewells,  was  a  little  sermon 
from  Mrs.  Abbott,  the  principal,  preceded  by 
reading  the  average  of  reports  for  the  year. 

The  day  had  come.  All  the  smaller  recitation- 
rooms  were  empty  and  the  girls  were  gathered 
into  the  large  school-room  occupying  their  own 
seats,  but  each  whispering  softly  to  her  neighbor, 
for  rules  were  not  strictly  enforced  on  either  the 
opening  or  closing  days  of  school. 

Upon  the  platform  at  one  end  of  the  room 
stood  a  green-covered  library-desk  with  the  large 
arm-chair  by  it  which  was  always  reserved  for 
Mrs.  Abbott.  As  they  waited  a  servant  came 
in  and  removed  the  chair,  bringing  in.to  view  a 


8  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

small  old-fashioned  hair-cloth  sofa  large  enough 
to  hold  two  persons  comfortably. 

"  That  means  company,"  was  the  universal 
whisper  that  went  around  among  the  girls,  and 
almost  before  there  could  be  any  speculation 
upon  who  the  guest  might  be  the  visitor  him- 
self followed  the  principal  into  the  room.  He 
was  a  tall,  stout,  middle-aged  man  with  a  splen- 
did head  that  reminded  the  girls  at  once  of  the 
pictures  of  Agassiz. 

As  Mrs.  Abbott  took  her  seat  on  one  end  of  the 
little  sofa,  with  her  usual  pleasant  bow  to  the  schol- 
ars, she  simply  said,  "  My  friend,  Mr.  Bellamy, will 
say  a  few  words  to  you ;  "  and  the  gentleman, 
with  the  ease  of  a  long-practiced  speaker,  stepped 
to  the  little  table  and  looked  down  with  kindly 
inquiring  eyes  upon  the  young  faces  upturned 
to  his. 

The  girls  were  well  accustomed  to  speeches 
from  visitors,  and  could  almost  have  told  how  he 
would  begin.  In  fact,  Lily  Dart,  who  was  quite 
the  wit  of  the  school,  had  once  written  out  sev- 
eral sentences  which  she  called  "  openings,"  and 
professed  to  be  holding  in  reserve  for  any  em- 
barrassed orator  who  might  be  disconcerted  by 
the  stare  of  thirty  pairs  of  critical  eyes.  Now, 
quoting  from  number  one  of  her  openings,  she 


MR.  BELLAMY'S  OFFER.  9 

rapidly  scrawled  on  a  bit  of  paper  for  her  desk- 
mate's  benefit,  "  Young  ladies,  my  heart  beats 
with  mingled  emotions — 

Lily  was  quite  astray  in  her  supposition.  Mr. 
Bellamy  said  nothing  about  hearts,  emotions,  or 
young  ladies  ;  instead,  with  a  look  that  seemed 
to  include  them  all,  he  remarked  in  an  easy  con- 
versational manner: 

'-My  visit  to  my  old  friend,  Mrs.  Abbott,  is 
made  with  the  hope  of  persuading  her  to  take  a 
little  girl  so  much  younger  than  the  custom  of 
her  school  allows  that  I  regard  her  consent  as 
the  greatest  favor  that  can  be  granted  to  me. 
My  little  motherless  granddaughter  " — there  was 
a  little  sudden  straightening  of  his  shoulders 
and  lifting  of  his  head  here  that  looked  to  the 
bright,  observant  eyes  watching  him  like  a  de- 
termined effort  to  keep  dry  eyes  and  a  steady 
voice — "will  seem  to  you,"  he  continued,  with 
almost  an  appeal  in  his  voice,  "  so  babyish,  and 
perhaps  spoiled  by  a  grandfather's  fond  affection, 
that  I  must  ask  your  kindest  indulgence  for  her. 
Business  calls  me  to  Europe,  and  it  will  be  a  year 
before  I  can  hope  to  see  my  little  girl  again.  I 
should  like  to  feel,  in  that  long  year  of  absence, 
that  Ethel,  my  Elfic,  I  call  her,  was  loved  by  the 
young  people  who  will  be  her  companions.  I  do  not 


io  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

ask  you  to  be  kind  to  her ;  that  I  am  sure  you 
will  be,  but  I  wish  I  could  feel  sure  that  you  will 
all  love  her/' 

Mrs.  Abbott  beckoned  to  Miss  Blake,  the  third- 
room  teacher,  and  said  a  few  words  which 
made  the  latter  go  quietly  out  of  the  room, 
to  return  shortly  with  a  colored  nurse  leading 
a  most  attractive-looking  little  creature  who 
seemed  almost  like  a  baby,  but  in  reality  was 
nearly  five  years  old. 

This  was  Elfie,  as  the  girls  knew  even  before 
she  sprang  into  her  grandfather's  arms,  and  if 
any  thing  more  than  the  words  they  had  just 
heard  had  been  needed  to  enlist  their  interest, 
the  child's  appearance  would  have  completed 
their  conquest,  and  a  very  audible  murmur  of 
interest  and  admiration  brought  a  suspicious 
glistening  to  Mr.  Bellamy's  eyes,  as  he  stood 
Elfie  on  the  table  with  her  arms  still  clinging  to 
his  neck.  At  a  whisper  from  him  the  child 
lifted  her  lovely  face  from  his  breast  and  looked 
shyly  for  one  moment  at  the  girls,  giving  them 
a  glimpse  of  pink  cheeks,  sweet,  frank  eyes,  and 
a  shy,  smiling  mouth,  before  the  lovely  face  was 
buried  again  on  her  grandfather's  shoulder,  and 
only  a  light,  tossy  handful  of  curls  was  visible  for 
their  admiration. 


MR.  BELLAMY'S  OFFER.  11 

Candace,  who  stood  in  statuesque  black  dig- 
nity as  befitted  her  vast  person  and  royal  name, 
was  studying  anxiously  the  faces  before  her  with 
the  keen  observation  common  among  untutored 
people,  and  now  let  her  solemn  countenance  break 
into  a  broad  smile  of  satisfaction  as  she  saw  the 
impression  her  little  charge  had  made.  She 
came  forward  then  at  a  sign  from  her  master,  and 
carried  Elfie  from  the  room,  the  girls'  eyes  fol- 
lowing them  till  the  white  dress  and  broad  black 
sash  disappeared  through  the  door. 

But  Mr.  Bellamy's  speech  was  not  over,  al- 
though only  one  more  sentence  related  to  the 
child  he  had  just  introduced  to  them. 

"  Let  my  Elfie  be  your  little  sister,"  he  said, 
with  again  that  look  of  almost  imploring  appeal 
in  his  eyes  which  seemed  so  much  like  a  ques- 
tion that  nearly  every  girl  involuntarily  raised 
her  right  hand  as  if  she  felt  that  some  expression 
of  assent  was  needed. 

An  audience  of  boys  would  have  given  three 
cheers  for  the  little  sister  and  six  more  for  the 
senator,  for  boys  would  have  known  in  a  moment 
that  the  speaker  was  the  distinguished  orator 
whose  eloquence  and  uprightness  had  made  him 
celebrated  all  over  the  country.  But  girls  don't 
hurrah,  and,  unfortunately,  do  not  read  the  papers 


12  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

and  keep  informed  in  political  matters.  But  the 
speaker  was  satisfied ;  his  wonderfully  express- 
ive eyes  told  that  as  he  gravely  bowed  and 
passed  on  to  speech  number  two,  as  Kate  Ash- 
ley called  it  in  her  diary. 

Nothing  so  interesting  as  consigning  a  lovely 
baby  girl  to  their  care  could  be  expected  from 
speech  number  two ;  but  the  girls  put  on  an 
expression  of  polite  attention  which  gradually 
changed  to  enthusiastic  interest  as  its  very  novel 
and  delightful  subject  was  unfolded  to  them. 

Even  very  able  speeches  by  noted  speakers 
are  rather  tiresome  to  read,  so  it  will  be  better 
to  simply  give  the  most  important  part  of  this 
one  without  going  fully  into  detail. 

Mrs.  Bellamy  Gray,  Ethel's  mother,  had  been 
a  pupil  of  Mrs.  Abbott,  and  it  was  one  of  the 
wishes  expressed  during  her  last  sickness  that 
her  little  daughter  should  be  educated  at  the 
same  school.  Of  course,  it  had  not  been  her 
wish  to  send  her  there  till  she  was  of  a  suitable 
age,  but  now  that  circumstances  had  arisen 
which  obliged  Mr.  Bellamy  to  go  to  Europe  he 
felt  anxious  to  leave  her  with  the  friend  who  had 
been  so  dear  to  her  mother. 

If  there  had  been  time,  he  told  his  audience, 
he  should  have  liked  to  tell  them  of  the  various 


MR.  BELLAMY'S  OFFER.  13 

plans  for  helping  and  comforting  others  that  his 
daughter  had  left  for  him  to  carry  out.  There 
was  a  bed  in  St.  John's  Hospital,  a  small  fund 
for  giving  six  poor  children  a  yearly  outing,  a 
memorial  window  in  the  little  mission  chapel 
where  she  had  a  Sunday-school  class;  and  all 
these  things  were  named  for  his  dear  and  only 
daughter,  and  he  loved  to  think  that  in  these 
pleasant  ways  her  works  would  seem  to  live  after 
her.  There  were  still  some  other  schemes  to 
carry  out,  and  among  them  a  Bellamy  prize  for 
Coventry  Institute. 

"  I  do  not  intimate,"  said  the  speaker,  having 
arrived  at  this  very  interesting  part  of  his  dis- 
course, "  that  any  one  of  Mrs.  Abbott's  scholars 
has  need  of  tangible  help  ;  neither  do  I  propose 
to  offer  a  prize  because  I  think  a  spur  to  correct 
action  is  necessary ;  but  because  my  daughter 
loved  the  school  I  wish  to  associate  her  memory 
with  it  in  a  pleasant  way.  The  best  way  of  do- 
ing this  will  have  to  be  a  matter  of  experiment 
and  as  a  sort  of  trial  trip.  I  will  make  it  this 
year  a  prize  of  three  hundred  dollars  in  gold. 
Your  teacher,  warned  by  some  sad  experience  in 
the  past,  is  opposed  to  any  thing  which  subjects 
her  young  people  to  a  prolonged  mental  strain, 
so  it  will  not  do  to  make  it  a  scholastic  prize,  and 


14  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

through  some  prejudices  of  my  own,  not  liking  to 
make  it  a  reward  for  elegant  deportment,  I  shall 
be  obliged  to  say  the  prize  is  for  the  most  de- 
serving. It  shall  be  given  upon  the  anniversary 
of  this  day,  and  the  recipient  shall  be  selected 
by  the  vote  of  the  school." 

Truly  this  was  an  extraordinary  prize,  and  the 
girls  discussed  it  with  animation  all  the  afternoon 
and  during  the  evening,  which  on  the  last  day  of 
school  was  more  like  a  social  gathering,  for  the 
day-scholars  were  always  invited  in  and  the  sad- 
ness of  farewell  was  cheered  by  games,  music, 
and  dancing. 

They  would  all  have  been  delighted  to  have 
little  Elfie  with  them  in  these  last  hours,  but  the 
fond  grandfather  could  not  spare  her,  and  one 
of  the  girls,  who  had  a  message  to  deliver  to 
Mrs.  Abbott  in  the  parlor,  reported  that  the 
child  lay  fast  asleep  in  Mr.  Bellamy's  arms, 
while  he  was  trying,  at  great  inconvenience  to 
himself;  to  write  letters  at  a  table,  and  black 
Candace  sat  patiently  in  the  hall  waiting  for  the 
long-delayed  summons  to  put  her  little  missy  to 
bed. 

It  was  late  when  the  day  scholars  went  home, 
and  the  others  went  up-stairs  to  their  rooms  very 
quietly.  They  all  had  to  pass  the  large  corner 


MR.  BELLAMY'S  OFFER.  15 

room  which  was  always  given  to  visitors,  and, 
although  the  light  was  turned  very  low,  they 
could  see  through  the  half-closed  door  that  Can- 
dace  was  trying  to  undress  the  little  girl  without 
waking  her,  and  the  senator,  whose  broad  back 
was  toward  the  door,  was  bending  down  to  un- 
button the  little  shoes,  one  of  which  he  lifted 
and  pressed  to  his  lips  just  as  the  last  pair  of 
girls  went  by. 

"Did  you  see  that?"  :vhispered  Katie,  with 
the  tears  starting  to  her  eyes. 

"Yes,  isn't  he  lovely,  and  doesn't  he  love  the 
little  one?"  answered  Lily,  with  a  nod. 

"  And  isn't  she  a  dainty  darling,  and  wont  we 
love  her  and  pet  her  when  we  come  back  next 
term  ! " 


1 6  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 


CHAPTER   II. 

NEXT  TERM. 

THE  number  of  boarding  scholars  at  Coventry 
school  was  limited  to  twenty,  and  it  was  neces- 
sary to  make  an  application  a  year  or  two  in  ad- 
vance, and  girls  had  been  known  to  wait  three 
years  for  a  vacancy,  for  the  school  was  so  popu- 
lar among  those  who  knew  of  it  that  people 
were  willing  to  wait. 

The  list  of  applicants  was  kept  in  a  book  in 
the  library,  and,  being  allowed  to  look  in  it,  the 
girls  became  familiar  with  the  names  of  expected 
pupils  long  before  they  saw  them,  and  when  a 
girl  arrived  she  hardly  seemed  like  a  stranger. 

Five  new  scholars  were  entered  at  the  end  of 
the  long  summer  vacation,  and,  strange  to  say, 
only  four  of  the  names  were  registered  in  the 
applicants'  book. 

"  It  seems  like  putting  a  fifth  wheel  to  a 
coach,"  said  Lily  Dart,  as  she  and  half  a  dozen 
other  boarders  held  a  "  pow-wow  "  before  un- 
packing their  trunks. 

"  Yes,"  said  Delia  Rowland,  "  there  were  only 


NEXT  TERM.  17 

four  vacancies,  and  where  is  this  fifth  wheel  to 
sit  in  the  dining-room,  and  where  is  she  to  sleep 
at  night,  and  who's  to  do  the  'mothering?' 

"  Mothering "  was  a  localism  which  needs 
some  explanation.  It  was  the  custom  when  a 
new  girl  entered  school  to  hand  her  over  to  a 
boarding  scholar  in  her  last  year,  who  was  ex- 
pected to  introduce  the  novice  into  the  ways  of 
the  establishment  and  befriend  her  in  every  pos- 
sible way.  It  was  apian  that  had  always  worked 
admirably,  and  Mrs.  Abbott  had  seen  many 
strong  and  lasting  friendships  begin  in  this  way. 
To  be  strictly  impartial  the  girls  selected  the 
new  scholars  they  would  "  protect  "  when  their 
names  were  announced  at  the  close  of  school,  so 
when  it  opened  again  and  the  new  scholars 
came  each  girl  knew  which  one  she  was  to 
"  mother  "  without  ever  having  seen  her. 

"  There's  a  great  deal  in  a  name,"  said  Delia 
Rowland,  contentedly.  "  I  feel  sure  my  girl 
will  be  nice  ;  no  one  called  Sylvia  Montgomery 
could  be  any  thing  but  charming.  It  has  such  a 
high-born  sound." 

"  I  don't  take  much  stock  in  names,"  said 
Lily.  "  The  most  aristocratic-looking  person  I 
ever  saw  was  named  Boggs,  and  we  had  a  colored 
butler  once  called  Montgomery  de  Vere." 


1 8  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  I  wonder  what  the  fifth  wheel's  name  is?" 
said  Kate. 

"I  know,"  said  Louie  Fields — "Mary  Ann 
Stubbs !  " 

"  Not  really  ?  "  This  was  said  by  three  girls 
at  once  with  great  emphasis. 

"Yes,  truly.     Mrs.  Abbott  said  so." 

"Then  I  know  she  is  common  as  dirt,"  said 
Delia,  solemnly. 

Lily  groaned. 

"  Ah,  girls,  I  am  a-weary,  a-weary,  I  would  that 
I  were  wed ;  for  I  saw  my  fate  in  Mrs.  Abbott's 
eyes.  As  sure  as  you're  alive  I  shall  be  made 
to  '  mother  '  Miss  Stubbs  ! 

"  O,  sweet  Mary  Ann, 
I'm  under  the  ban  ; 
Fate  links  us  together 
And  we  shall  part  never 
Till  life  at  school  ends  !  " 

The  girls  always  laughed  at  Lily's  ready 
versification  whether  it  was  funny  or  not,  so 
the  approval  she  had  learned  to  expect  came 
now. 

"  Don't  cross  a  bridge  till  you  come  to  it," 
said  Delia. 

"  O,  you  dear,  original  creature,  I  have  come 
to  it,  I  know  it  by  the  pricking  of  my  thumbs. 


NEXT  TERM.  19 

and  I  feel  it  in  my  bones,  and  existence  isn't 
going  to  be  worth  having !  " 

"  Here's  my  bottle  of  toothache-drops,  with  a 
caution  on  the  label  not  to  swallow  any,  because 
it's  poison.  I  guess  I  can  spare  one  fatal  dose 
for  you  and  have  enough  left  to  last  till  term 
ends." 

"  Thanks,  Katie,  but  I  prefer  to  end  my  days 
by  opening  a  vein  ;  besides,  your  toothache-drops 
smell  of  cloves,  and  I  hate  cloves.  I'm  very 
fastidious,  and  prefer  to 'die  of  a  rose  in  aromatic 
pain.'  I  don't  quite  know  what  that  means, 
but  it  sounds  better  than  cloves." 

"  Well,  go  on  living  till  you  see  Miss  Stubbs; 
she  may  be  such  a  queen  of  love  and  beauty 
that  even  that  name  can't  spoil  her." 

The  door  opened  then,  admitting  Mrs.  Abbott 
and  little  Ethel,  who  shrank  away  as  the  girls 
made  a  dash  at  her. 

"  Her  shyness  will  not  last  when  she  has  had 
time  to  make  acquaintance  with  you  all,"  said 
Mrs.  Abbott,  sitting  down  in  the  rocking-chair 
Lily  placed  for  her  and  taking  Ethel  upon  her 
lap. 

"Will  she  be  in  school?"  asked  Kate. 

"  Only  a  little  while  each  day.  She  is  too 
young  for  lessons,  but  I  want  her  to  be  among 


2o  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

you  as  much  as  possible,  for  she  has  ahvays  lived 
with  grown  people,  and  the  contact  with  young 
life  will  be  very  healthful  and  delightful  for 
her." 

"  I  wish  we  might  have  her  all  the  time !  " 
exclaimed  Lily.  "  O,  do,  Mrs.  Abbott,  let  us 
take  turns  taking  care  of  the  darling!  Say, 
baby,  wont  you  be  Lily's  little  sister  for  a  week, 
and  be  with  her  all  the  time  and  sleep  in  her 
bed?" 

"  I  am  every  body's  little  sister,  grandpa 
says,"  said  Ethel,  holding  up  her  chin  with  a 
sort  of  baby  dignity  that  made  her  very  bewitch- 
ing ;  "  but  I'd  rather  sleep  with  Mammy  Can- 
dace." 

"  And  I  am  afraid  that  playing  nurse  would 
interfere  seriously  with  lessons  and  rules,"  said 
Mrs.  Abbott.  "  But  I  am  glad  to  have  you  fond 
of  Ethel.  She  has  grown  very  dear  to  me 
through  this  long  vacation,  while  we  have  been 
off  in  the  Catskills  and  at  the  sea-side  seeking 
for  health  and  strength  for  us  both." 

'•'  Ethel  looks  better  for  the  change,"  said 
Delia. 

"  She  is  much  better,"  said  Mrs.  Abbott  ;  "  I 
saw  the  color  come  to  her  cheeks  before  we 
had  been  in  the  hills  a  week.  I  wish  Mr. 


NEXT  TERM.  21 

Bellamy  could  see  how  plump  and  rosy  she  has 
grown." 

Candace,  who  was  never  far  from  her  charge, 
put  her  head  in  at  the  door  with  Ethel's  broad 
hat  in  her  hand,  and  the  child  sprang  to  her  and 
started  for  a  walk.  Lily  would  have  proposed 
going  too,  but  Mrs.  Abbott  detained  her. 

"  I  came  in  to  speak  particularly  to  you,"  she 
said.  "  Since  I  mentioned  at  school  closing  that 
four  new  scholars  were  expected  this  term  I 
have  arranged  to  take  a  fifth.  She  has  just  ar- 
rived and  is  in  my  room  now.  According  to  the 
usual  custom  I  have  selected  one  of  the  oldest 
scholars  to  be  her  friend  and  initiate  her  kindly 
into  the  ways  of  the  school  and  help  her  over 
some  of  the  difficulties,  which  you  will  all  re- 
member, from  your  own  experiences,  seem  rather 
formidable  to  a  stranger.  I  expect  you,  Lily,  to 
be  the  friend  in  need  in  this  instance,  and  if  you 
are  ready  I  will  take  you  directly  to  my  room 
and  introduce  you  to  Miss  Stubbs." 

Lily  turned  to  give  the  girls  one  look  of  com 
ical  despair  as  she  followed  Mrs.  Abbott  to  her 
own  sitting-room,  where  the  only  occupant  was  a 
girl  of  fourteen,  sitting  stiffly  upon  an  ottoman. 
Her  hair,  which  was  certainly  thick  and  long, 
was  all  drawn  away  from  her  round  red  face  and 


22  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

put  up  in  a  big  braided  knot  at  the  back.  She 
had  pleasant  dark  eyes  and  teeth  which  showed 
white  as  pearls  as  she  parted  her  lips  in  a  smile  as 
Mrs.  Abbott  came  in.  But  her  hands  !  they  were 
awful,  thought  Lily,  taking  the  stranger  in  with 
a  quick  glance — big  red,  rough  things,  with 
neither  ruffle  nor  cuff  to  soften  them  as  they 
lay  clasped  tightly  together  upon  a  coarse,  stiffly 
starched  white  apron  which  enhanced  their  red- 
ness. Hardly  more  attractive  than  the  hands 
were  the  awkwardly  crossed  feet,  made  more 
clumsy  by  common,  thick,  new  shoes.  Lily  had 
never,  except  on  bargain-counters  in  the  door- 
way of  cheap  stores,  seen  any  material  like  the 
red,  purple,  and  green  plaid  of  which  Miss 
Stubbs's  dress  was  made. 

"  Girls,  I  shall  write  to  my  father  to  take  me 
out  of  school !"  exclaimed  Lily,  impetuously, 
as  she  rushed  back  to  the  room  where  the  girls 
she  had  left  were  still  sitting.  "  I  will  not  stay 
to  be  so  insulted  !  " 

"Your  insult  did  not  last  long,"  said  Katie, 
who  was  well  accustomed  to  Lily's  extravagant 
manner  of  speech.  "  It's  only  five  minutes  since 
you  went  off.  We  didn't  expect  you  back  for 
an  hour." 

"  I  couldn't  stay,"  said  Lily,  gloomily  ;  "  but  I 


XKXT  TERM.  23 

suppose  I  must  go  right  back.  I  asked  Mrs. 
Abbott  to  excuse  me  while  I  ran  for  a  handker- 
chief. I  knew  I  had  one  in  my  pocket  all  the 
time,  but  I  just  had  to  come  out  and  give  vent 
to  my  indignation  !  Girls,  Mary  Ann  Stubbs  is 
just  a  little  servant-girl  !  I  know  it  by  her  looks 
and  her  words  too.  Why,  what  do  you  think 
she  said  when  I  mumbled  out  something  about 
hoping  she'd  be  very  happy  here  ?  I  wouldn't 
have  said  one  word  to  her  after  looking  at  her 
hands,  but  Mrs.  Abbott's  eye  was  on  me,  and  I 
had  to  make  some  kind  of  conversation." 

"  Well,  what  did  the  girl  say  after  you  had 
done  the  polite?" 

"  '  Thank  you,  ma'am.'  ' 

"  O,  how  funny  to  call  you  '  ma'am  ! '  Then 
what  did  you  say  ?  " 

"  I  said,  '  Have  you  ever  been  at  boarding- 
school  before  ? ' 

"  '  No,  ma'am.' 

"  '  Should  you  like  me  to  tell  you  some  of  the 
rules  ? '  I  said. 

"  '  If  you  please,  ma'am,'  she  said,  sticking  out 
her  elbows  and  twisting  her  fingers  together  as 
if  she  was  wringing  out  a  dishcloth.  I  say  Mrs. 
Abbott  has  no  business  to  ask  us  to  associate 
with  such  a  heathenish  girl.  Ugh !  How  she 


24  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

looks  !  Her  dress  is  made  of  the  coarsest  cloth 
you  ever  saw,  and  it  looks  like  a  star-spangled 
banner  mixed  up  with  a  rainbow,  only  there  isn't 
enough  of  it  to  make  a  banner,  for  it's  scant  and 
short,  short  enough  to  give  a  plentiful  view  of 
her  white  stockings,  and  she's  got  on  clod-hop- 
pers ;  I  think  they  must  be  her  brother's  shoes. 
She  has  no  collar  or  cuffs,  and  her  hair  is  done 
up  like  an  old  woman's.  Just  think  of  my 
'  mothering  '  that  great,  horrid,  vulgar  girl !  I 
wont,  though  !  "  She  burst  into  a  flood  of  an- 
gry tears  as  she  made  this  declaration. 

Mingling  with  the  rather  hysterical  weeping  in 
which  Lily's  indignation  had  culminated  there 
was  another  sound  of  sobbing,  and,  turning  sud- 
denly, they  beheld,  with  a  poor  little  cotton 
handkerchief  pressed  to  her  eyes,  the  forlorn 
figure  which  had  just  been  so  aptly  described 
that  there  was  no  difficulty  in  recognizing — Mary 
Ann  Stubbs ! 


IN  KATIE'S  ROOM.  25 


CHAPTER  III. 

IN    KATIE'S    ROOM. 

THE  poor  girl  had  followed  Lily  at  a  word 
from  Mrs.  Abbott,  who  felt,  perhaps,  that  the  or- 
deal of  meeting  some  more  of  her  fellow-schol- 
ars had  better  be  over  at  once.  Unnoticed,  and 
not  knowing  exactly  how  she  ought  to  make  her 
presence  known,  the  poor  thing  had  stood  mo- 
tionless in  the  door-way  hearing  the  cruel  words, 
like  a  target  into  which  all  the  arrows  of  scorn 
were  being  fired,  till  the  sound  of  Lily's  sobs 
broke  down  her  stony  composure. 

Katie,  who  was  always  good-natured,  was 
really  shocked  at  the  cruel  wounds  the  stranger 
had  received,  and,  going  up  to  her,  attempted  to 
apologize  and  soothe  her.  But  the  case  seemed 
too  dreadful  to  admit  of  palliation,  and  every 
thing  Katie  could  think  of  to  say  seemed  to 
make  the  matter  worse.  .  There  was  a  sort  of 
pathetic  dignity  in  the  way  Mary  Ann  dried  her 
tears  after  a  few  moments  and  said  in  a  tone 
which  showed  the  difficulty  of  commanding  her 
voice : 


26  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  I  do  not  want  to  trouble  Mrs.  Abbott,  so  please, 
ma'am,  will  you  show  me  some  place  I  can  stay 
where  I'll  be  out  of  people's  way?" 

"  Come  in  here,"  said  Lily,  thoroughly  ashamed 
of  herself.  "  I  know  Mrs.  Abbott  meant  you  to 
come  here." 

"  If  I  could  be  useful  to  you,  ma'am,"  the  girl 
said,  hesitatingly,  yet  looking  as  if  she  longed  to 
get  away. 

"  I  wish  you'd  come  into  my  room  and  help 
me  unpack,"  said  Katie,  having  tact  and  good- 
nature enough  to  think  the  proposal  would  be 
pleasing. 

She  led  the  way  through  the  back  hall  and  up- 
stairs to  the  dormitories,  which  were  a  row  of 
small  rooms  on  each  side  of  a  long  hall  with 
a  large  bath-room  at  each  end.  There  were 
a  double  bed  and  two  small  bureaus  in  each 
room. 

It  was  a  great  comfort  to  the  unhappy  stranger 
to  find  something  to  do,  and  lazy  Katie  found 
herself  well  paid  for  her  kindness  by  the  ener- 
getic way  in  which  the  contents  of  her  trunk 
were  all  laid  with  orderly  arrangement  in  the 
bureau-drawers  while  she,  not  to  embarrass  her 
visitor  by  watching  her,  sat  on  the  bed  looking 
over  her  photograph  album,  occasionally  calling 


IN  KATIE'S  ROOM.  27 

the  attention  of  Miss  Stubbs  to  a  picture  with 
some  explanatory  remarks. 

"  This  is  my  married  sister,  and  this  gentle- 
man over  the  leaf  is  my  married  brother,"  she 
said,  calling  attention  to  two  very  handsome 
faces. 

"  O,  aint  they  splendid,  ma'am  !  "  ejaculated 
Mary  Ann,  looking  enraptured.  "  And  have  you 
really  got  growed-up  brothers  and  sisters  ?  " 

"  Yes,  plenty  of  them.  I'm  the  youngest  of 
seven." 

"  Dear  me,  suz  !  And  I'm  the  oldest  of  sev- 
en !  "  said  Miss  Stubbs,  in  rather  a  self-congrat- 
ulatory manner. 

"  O,  how  awful  !  "  replied  Katie.  "  Why,  I 
shouldn't  think  you'd  have  any  presents  and 
things.  Now,  all  my  brothers  and  sisters,  except 
the  two  next  to  me,  give  me  all  sorts  of  treats 
and  make  a  regular  pet  of  me." 

Mary  Ann  looked  at  her  with  wondering  eyes, 
but  made  no  answer.  She  was  thinking  of  a 
poor  little  home  in  the  mountains,  where  there 
was  so  much  hard  work,  poverty,  and  sickness 
that  petting  and  presents  were  not  things  to  be 
understood.  She  felt  a  sudden  desire  to  say  so, 
but  something  seemed  to  tell  her  that  such  a 
home  as  hers  would  be  despised  by  her  com- 


28  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

panion.  She  was  glad  of  all  she  did  not  say 
when,  a  moment  after,  Katie  exclaimed: 

"  O,  see  this  one  !  It's  my  own  room  at  home. 
Mamma  had  it  photographed  and  sent  it  to  me 
last  term,  so  I  might  see  how  the  new  furniture 
looked." 

Mary  Ann  studied  the  picture  long  and 
closely. 

"  How  beautiful !  How  beautiful !  "  she  said, 
at  last,  in  breathless  admiration.  "  The  best 
parlor  at  the  Peconough  House  is  jest  nothin' 
to  it !  My  lands  !  how  rich  your  folks  must  be  ! 
and  aint  it  awful  work  to  dust  all  them  orna- 
ments ?  " 

"  I  suppose  so,"  said  Katie$  indifferently.  "  I 
never  dust  the  room  myself,  but  mamma  says  the 
housemaid  complains  of  all  our  rooms." 

Mary  Ann  looked  at  Katie  curiously,  then 
attentively  at  the  picture  again  ;  then,  rather  ir- 
relevantly it  would  seem  to  any  one  not  follow- 
ing her  thoughts,  said  with  a  heavy  sigh  : 

"  My,  aint  you  got  white  hands,  though  !  " 

They  were  white,  and  Katie  enjoyed  being  told 
of  it ;  in  fact,  the  admiration  she  and  her  belong- 
ings, as  they  were  taken  from  the  trunk,  excited 
was  very  refreshing  to  this  young  lady,  who  had 
her  full  share  of  vanity.  Her  complacency  made 


IN  KATIE'S  ROOM.  29 

her  quite  tolerant  of  her  companion's  uncouth 
ways,  and  she  propped  herself  comfortably 
aDgainst  a  pillow  and  proceeded  to  astonish  her 
auditor  by  an  extended  account  of  her  luxuries 
and  privileges  in  her  beautiful  home. 

Her  descriptions  were  assisted  and  confirmed 
by  two  photographs  that  were  too  large  to  go  in 
the  album.  The  views  showed  the  house  to  be 
very  elegant,  but  the  girls  were  rather  tired  of 
Katie's  "  bragging,"  and  it  was  seldom  she  could 
get  an  opportunity  of  expending  so  much  elo- 
quence upon  her  favorite  theme. 

While  Mary  Ann  listened  with  entranced  in- 
terest to  the  description  of  home-life  which 
seemed  to  her  like  a  piece  out  of  a  fairy-tale 
her  rough,  red  hands  were  not  idle.  Having 
emptied  the  trunk  of  all  excepting  its  heaviest 
contents  she  dragged  it  into  the  hall  for  Duffy 
to  carry  into  the  store-room,  and,  pulling  a  spool 
and  tatting-shuttle  out  of  her  pocket,  made  the 
latter  fly  as  if  its  motor  were  steam. 

By  and  by  Lily  put  her  head  in  the  half-closed 
door,  flushing  at  the  sight  of  Miss  Stubbs,  but 
otherwise  taking  no  notice  of  her. 

"  Please  come  to  Mrs.  Abbott's  room,  Katie ; 
she  wants  us  for  a  few  minutes,"  she  said,  dis- 
appearing as  suddenly  as  she  came. 


30  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

Katie  smoothed  her  hair  at  the  glass  and 
turned  to  obey  the  request.  At  the  same  in- 
stant small  flying  feet  were  heard  and  a  little 
voice  counting  the  doors,  "  One,  two,  three,  four, 
five,  same's  my  little  finger ;  this  is  the  one,  I 
know;  "  and  with  a  little  knock  that  she  didn't 
wait  to  hear  answered  Ethel  danced  into  the 
room. 

"  I've  come  back  for  you,"  she  exclaimed,  run- 
ning up  to  Mary  Ann,  "  and  Mrs.  Abbott  says 
you  may  come  with  us  to  see  the  peacocks,  and 
we  are  going  to  feed  them,  too.  Candace  is  get- 
ting your  hat,  and  she'll  wait  on  the  piazza  for 
us.  Come,  hurry !  hurry !  The  big  one's  got  his 
tail  lifted  all  up  like  a  big,  big  feather  fan." 


MRS.  ABBOTT'S  EXPLANATION.  31 


CHAPTER  IV. 

MRS.  ABBOTT'S  EXPLANATION. 

PERHAPS  it  was  a  little  bit  of  diplomacy  on 
Mrs.  Abbott's  part  that  provided  an  occupation 
out  of  the  house  for  Miss  Stubbs,  while  she 
talked  of  her  very  seriously  to  some  of  the  schol- 
ars. Lily,  who  was  as  quick  to  act  upon  her 
good  impulses  as  upon  any  others,  had  told  her 
teacher  frankly  what  had  occurred.  Mrs.  Abbott 
received  her  confession  sorrowfully,  but  made  no 
comment  at  the  time,  simply  asking  the  girl  to 
call  to  her  room  those  who  had  been  present  at 
the  conversation. 

Delia,  Katie,  Fannie  Holmes,  Bell  Burgoyne, 
and  Lily  Dart,  the  Friendly  Five,  as  they  called 
themselves,  took  their  seats  rather  shamefaced- 
ly, and  waited  to  hear  what  Mrs.  Abbott  had  to 
say. 

If  it  had  been  anyone  but  Mrs.  Abbott  the 
girls  would  have  thought  her  afraid  to  begin. 
She  certainly  seemed  much  less  composed  than 
usual.  She  looked  out  of  the  window  thought- 
fully, rose  and  walked  half  a  dozen  times  across 


32  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

the  room,  then  took  her  seat  again,  looked  keenly 
at  the  girls  for  a  moment,  and  said : 

"  I  hardly  know  whether  or  not  to  tell  you 
something  that  will  explain  the  presence  in  our 
school  of  a  girl  who  is  very  different — I  do  not 
pretend  to  say  she  is  not — from  all  who  have  ever 
been  here.  I  hope  I  may  help  her  by  telling 
you,  but  sometimes  I  am  afraid  I  shall  do  more 
harm  than  good  by  being  frank." 

Here  she  hesitated,  and  the  girls,  who  were 
wildly  curious,  were  afraid  she  had  arrived  at  the 
conclusion  not  to  tell  them  any  thing.  She  no- 
ticed their  inquiring  looks  and  smiled. 

"  I  have  made  your  lively  imaginations  expect 
more  of  a  story  than  I  really  have  to  tell," 
she  said.  "  Last  July,  as  you  already  know,  I 
took  Ethel  and  Candace  for  a  six  weeks'  stay  in 
the  Catskills.  The  hotel  was  on  one  mountain  and 
faced  another.  In  the  deep  valley  between  were 
several  little  houses,  not  clustered  together  for 
neighborly  companionship,  as  you  might  suppose 
they  would  be  in  such  a  place,  but  each  standing 
quite  alone  in  what  they  call  a '  burnt-off '  clearing. 
The  mountain  air,  while  it  strengthened  me, 
made  me  wakeful,  and,  delightfully  still  as  the 
place  was,  I  could  never  sleep  after  the  first  ray 
of  daylight  broke  through  the  sky.  There  were 


MRS.  ABBOTT'S  EXPLANATION.         33 

such  glorious  cloud  effects  that  I  thought  I 
might  as  well  turn  my  early  wakefulness  to  good 
account ;  so  the  dawn  of  day  always  found  me  in 
shawls  and  wrapper  sitting  at  the  window  of  my 
bedroom. 

"  The  clouds  hang  very  near  the  earth  among 
those  heights ;  so  in  watching  them  I  did  not 
have  to  lift  my  eyes  too  high  to  see  what  was 
going  on  about  me,  although  there  was  not  much 
to  see,  except  an  occasional  ox-team  or  a  man 
on  his  way  somewhere.  But  I  began  to  notice 
after  awhile  that  one  of  the  earliest  living  things 
astir  after  the  birds  was  a  little  girl  who  brought 
a  big  pail  up  the  hill,  went  around  to  the  back 
door  of  the  hotel,  and  presently  came  back  with 
the  pail  filled  with  water,  carrying  it  down  the 
precipitous  path  quickly  but  with  great  care  not 
to  spill  all  its  contents,  as  certainly  any  one  not 
used  to  perpendicular  paths  would  have  done. 

"  To  have  made  the  journey  thus  loaded 
would  have  been  a  task  for  most  people,  but 
this  little  water-bearer  came  again  and  again.  I 
have  known  her  to  carry  down  her  load  eleven 
times  before  the  first  bell  rang  to  warn  the  hotel 
guests  that  it  was  time  to  leave  their  beds  and 
prepare  for  breakfast. 

"  I  am  not  fond  of  exercise  before  breakfast, 


34  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

but  I  grew  so  interested  in  the  little  water-carrier 
that  one  morning  I  dressed  myself  very  early 
and  went  out,  meeting  her,  as  I  expected,  swing- 
ing her  empty  pail  and  repeating  something  to  her- 
self as  if  she  were  learning  a  lesson.  She  was 
larger  when  I  stood  on  her  level  than  when  I 
saw  her  from  the  window,  and  sufficiently  strong 
not  to  have  minded  carrying  two  or  three  pails 
of  water — but  eleven  ! 

"  '  It  is  hard  work  for  you,'  I  said,  sympathet- 
ically, after  wishing  her  good-morning.  '  O,  my, 
no,'  she  said,  brightly;  'jest  suppose  I  had  the 
empty  pails  to  carry  down  and  the  full  ones  to 
fetch  up ! ' 

"  I  admired  her  happy  philosophy  and  asked 
which  of  the  houses  she  carried  her  pails  of 
water  to,  and  was  surprised  enough  when  she 
told  me  it  was  to  all  of  them.  I  learned  later 
that  the  well  at  the  hotel  was  the  only  one  in  the 
vicinity,  and,  the  supply  of  rain-water  being  in- 
adequate, the  people  in  the  four  little  homes  I 
could  catch  glimpses  of  through  the  trees  were 
willing  to  give  a  cent  for  each  pail  of  water 
brought  to  them ! 

"At  mountain  hotels  fruit  on  the  breakfast- 
table  is  not  usual ;  so  the  boarders  were  very  glad 
to  engage  wild  raspberries  from  the  same  girl, 


MRS.  ABBOTT'S  EXPLANATION.          35 

who  gathered  them,  with  the  help  of  three  little 
brothers,  after  she  had  finished  her  water-car- 
rying. 

"  I  used  to  walk  on  the  piazza  with  Ethel 
every  morning  while  Candace  was  eating  her 
breakfast,  and  sometimes  still  longer,  when  the 
grass  seemed  too  damp  for  more  distant  ram- 
bling, and  as  we  turned  the  corner  and  walked 
down  the  end  of  the  dining-room  \ve  could  see 
through  the  windows  of  the  kitchen  beyond  it 
great  baskets  of  dirty  dishes  carried  in  and  emp- 
tied upon  a  table  and  piled  up  ready  for  washing. 
At  a  sink  close  by  a  fat  woman  was  perpetually 
washing  dishes,  which  she  handed  as  fast  as 
rinsed  to  two  girls  who  wiped  and  piled  them 
upon  another  table.  The  dish-washing  and 
wiping  always  seemed  very  attractive  to  Ethel, 
and  she  made  every  excuse  to  stay  longest  on 
that  part  of  the  piazza.  At  last  from  frequent 
observation  of  the  process  and  the  workers  I 
began  to  discover  that  my  little  water-carrier 
was  one  of  the  dish-wipers. 

"  I  made  arrangements  when  we  first  went  to 
the  hotel  for  hiring  a  strong  wagon  and  a  very 
steady  old  horse,  and  Ethel  and  I  went  every 
fair  day  for  a  long,  lovely  drive  among  the  beau- 
tiful mountains.  One  day  our  trustworthy  horse 


36  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

was  attacked  with  a  kind  of  rheumatic  lameness 
which  his  owner  admitted  he  was  liable  to  have 
occasionally,  but  which  would  not  last  long. 
We  waited  patiently  through  several  rainy  and 
cloudy  days,  but  when  one  came  that  seemed 
more  perfect  than  any  other  day  could  be  I  felt 
as  if  I  could  wait  no  longer,  and  consulted  the 
landlord  about  hiring  another  horse.  I  think,  to 
exonerate  that  very  cautious  and  conservative 
man,  I  must  confess  that  I  was  a  little  self-willed, 
and  engaged  a  coltish  creature  that  he  absolutely 
condemned.  But  I  have  driven  nearly  every  day 
for  so  many  years  that  I  had  perhaps  too  great 
an  estimate  of  my  own  powers. 

"  We  started  on  our  drive,  picking  out  the 
least  precipitous  roads,  where  all  nearly  ap- 
proached the  perpendicular  for  at  least  some 
portion  of  their  way,  and  so  far  from  seeming 
coltish  our  slow-moving  horse  might  have  been 
a  grandfather." 

There  was  a  prevailing  opinion  at  Coventry 
school  that  Mrs.  Abbott  was  rather  fond  of  tell- 
ing a.  story,  and  knew  how  to  tell  it  well.  Per- 
haps it  was  the  strong  interest  she  herself  felt 
in  every  thing  she  said  to  her  girls,  or  perhaps 
it  was  the  great  love  they  felt  for  her  that  made 
them  now  listen  so  intently  that  if  the  celebrated 


MRS.  ABBOTT'S  EXPLANATION.          37 

pin  that  is  always  mentioned  in  connection  with 
attentive  audiences  had  dropped  it  might  have 
made  quite  a  clatter,  and  yet  certainly  there  was 
nothing  very  exciting  about  what  she  had  said 
so  far,  as  Kate  Ashley  found  when  she  tried  to 
put  it  into  her  inevitable  diary. 

"  Elfie  was  in  high  spirits,"  pursued  Mrs.  Ab- 
bott, "  and  laughed  and  sang  as  we  drove  along 
the  shady  roads,  that  were  almost  cold,  the  shade 
was  so  dense. 

"We  were  within  a  mile  or  two  of  home  when 
we  came  to  a  little  log  hut  we  had  often  seen 
before,  but  could  rarely  pass  without  stopping, 
because  we  knew  it  was  the  place  to  buy  the 
most  delicious  maple-sugar  that  could  be  found 
in  that  region.  The  lame  old  woman  sitting 
in  the  door  rose  up  and  came  to  the  carriage, 
helping  out  Elfie,  who  had  twelve  cents,  the 
price  of  a  pound  cake  of  sugar,  clutched  in  her 
hand. 

"  I  shall  always  be  devoutly  thankful  that  the 
child  did  get  out,  for  before  she  had  even  stepped 
into  the  house  behind  the  old  woman  a  man 
whom  I  had  not  seen  fired  his  gun  at  a  squirrel 
close  behind  us,  and  in  an  instant  the  startled 
horse  dashed  away  with  me,  paying  no  heed  to 
all  my  efforts  to  hold  him  in.  The  road  was  up- 


38  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

hill  for  a  little  way,  but  I  well  remembered  that 
there  was  a  long,  steep  pitch  after  that,  and  I 
drew  the  reins  with  all  the  strength  I  had  and 
settled  myself  into  the  middle  of  the  seat  so  I 
should  not  be  quite  so  easily  thrown  out.  When 
we  reached  the  top  of  the  hill  the  downward 
pace  was  terrible.  He  seemed  not  to  run,  but 
to  take  great  plunging  leaps.  His  very  first 
jump  pulled  the  reins  out  of  my  hands,  and  I 
crouched  down  on  the  floor,  grasping  the  seat 
and  expecting  every  instant  to  be  thrown  out. 
I  suppose  I  did  not  spend  much  time  in  this 
way,  but  it  seemed  like  an  hour  that  I  clung 
there  with  a  dreadful  death  apparently  quite 
certain,  for  the  road  was  narrow,  with  a  steep, 
stony  descent  on  one  side.  At  the  bottom  of 
the  terrible  hill  there  was  a  short  bit  of  road  as 
nearly  level  as  any  road  ever  is  among  those 
mountains,  then  a  fork,  one  road  taking  straight 
up  another  hill,  the  other  making  a  sharp,  sud- 
den turn  toward  a  plank  bridge  that  had  been 
injured  by  late  storms  and  was  considered  im- 
passable. 

"  If  the  horse,  whose  bounds  seemed  to  be 
getting  a  little  less  impetuous,  went  straight  up 
the  other  hill,  possibly,  hope  whispered  to  me,  I 
might  be  saved ;  but  if  he  took  that  awful  turn 


MRS.  ABBOTT'S  EXPLANATION.          39 

— I  turned  sick  when  I  thought  of  what  would 
come  then  ! 

"In  those  few  terrible  seconds  before  we 
reached  the  foot  of  the  hill  I  saw — although  I 
was  not  conscious  till  afterward  that  I  saw  any 
thing — the  hotel  standing  boldly  out  upon  its 
clearing,  with  people  walking  and  sitting  upon 
its  broad  piazza,  and,  just  before  the  bit  of  level 
road  I  was  approaching,  a  little  black  house,  with 
a  group  of  children  playing  beneath  a  tree  and  a 
girl  hanging  a  heavy  quilt  upon  a  clothes-line. 
The  noise  of  the  wheels  made  her  turn  her  head. 
I  cannot  remember  what  she  did  then,  but  I  have 
been  told  that  she  made  a  dash  for  the  road,  and, 
when  my  horse  came  to  the  spot  where  to  turn 
was  death,  she  stood  at  the  point  of  danger, 
right  in  the  middle  of  the  road,  with  the  dark,  wet 
calico  quilt  held  up  in  her  extended  arms.  If  she 
had  moved  it  it  would  have  added  to  the  horse's 
terror  and  driven  him  into  a  mad  bolt  at  the 
precipice  on  the  other  side  of  the  road,  but  held 
as  the  girl  held  it  it  simply  made,  as  she  hoped  it 
would,  a  barrier  to  keep  him  from  taking  the 
turn. 

"  My  horse's  pace  grew  less  fearful  then,  even 
on  the  level  space,  and  before  we  reached  the  top 
of  the  steep  ascent  it  had  moderated  so  greatly 


40  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

that  two  men  at  the  top  in  a  loaded  wagon  sprang 
from  their  seat  at  sight  of  my  danger  and  stopped 
him  without  much  difficulty." 

Mrs.  Abbott  stopped  for  a  moment,  overcome 
by  the  recollection  of  her  exciting  adventure, 
while  the  girls,  who  had  almost  forgotten  to 
breathe  while  they  listened,  crowded  about  her 
with  caresses  and  murmurs  of  thankfulness  that 
she  had  been  saved. 


MARY  ANN  STUBBS.  41 


CHAPTER  V. 

MARY  ANN  STUBBS. 

"  IT  is  very  lovely,"  said  Mrs.  Abbott,  as  the 
girls  were  petting  and  fondling  her,  "  very  lovely 
in  you  to  care  so  much  for  my  deliverance  from 
peril.  I  have  not  been  able  to  tell  you  half  how 
dreadful  my  danger  was.  I  seemed  to  be  look- 
ing right  at  death,  and  a  terrible  death,  too.  My 
heart  is  full  of  thankful  love  whenever  I  think  of 
God's  goodness  to  me  then.  Perhaps  my  lips 
did  not  utter  a  word  ;  I  know  I  did  not  scream, 
but  something  within  me  cried  out  just  as  the 
supreme  moment  of  danger  was  at  hand,  '  Lord, 
save  me,  save  me,  save  me  ! ' 

"  Girls,"  continued  Mrs.  Abbott,  solemnly, 
making  an  effort  to  recover  herself  from  the 
strong  excitement  with  which  she  had  spoken 
the  last  words,-"  God  heard  me  out  of  the  depths 
of  my  agony;  he  sent  the  angel  of  his  deliverance 
to  my  help.  Do  you  wonder  that  gratitude  to 
the  girl  who  risked  her  life  to  save  mine  makes 
me  wish  to  make  her  life  happier?" 

"  It  was  Mary  Ann  Stubbs,"  exclaimed  Lily, 


42  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

throwing  her  arms  around  Mrs.  Abbott's  neck 
and  sobbing,  "  and  I — I — I  have  been  so  mean  to 
her  when  she  saved  your  life  !  " 

"  O,  Lily,  keep  .still  and  let  Mrs.  Abbott  tell 
us  the  rest,"  said  Delia.  "  Did  you  faint  when 
they  took  you  out?  And  when  did  you  find  out 
that  it  was  Mary  Ann  who  held  the  quilt?  I 
don't  see  how  she  came  to  think  of  doing  it,  any- 
way." 

"Nor  I,"  said  Bell.  "I  am  afraid  I  should 
just  shut  my  eyes  and  shudder  if  I  were  to  see  a 
lady  being  run  away  with  in  such  a  fearful  way." 

"  I  suppose  almost  any  girl  would  feel  as  you 
do,"  said  Mrs.  Abbott.  "  I  am  sure  I  should 
feel  helpless  myself  in  the  same  circumstances , 
but  Mary  Ann  is  really  a  very  uncommon  char- 
acter. 

"  Naturally  enough,  I  was  sick  for  some  days 
from  the  nervous  shock  of  my  accident,  and  in 
that  time  I  learned  much  about  her  from  the 
hotel-keeper's  wife,  who  used  to  come  in  and  sit 
with  me.  It  was  not  till  she  told  me  that  I  knew 
who  kept  the  horse  from  taking  that  dreadful  turn. 

"  I  found  that  the  one  great  desire  of  Mary 
Ann's  life  was  to  have  an  education.  The  few 
books  she  could  get  hold  of  she  knew  almost  by 
heart,  and  in  the  little  country  school  she  at- 


MARY  ANN  STUBBS.  43 

tended  in  winter  she  studied  with  a  vigor  that 
soon  carried  her  beyond  the  rather  slightly  ed- 
ucated teacher.  During  all  the  work  of  her 
busy  days  she  was  always  committing  some- 
thing to  memory,  and  the  results  of  her  appli- 
cation will  surprise  you  when  you  see  her  in 
class. 

"  It  seemed  impossible  to  take  away  a  girl  who 
was  the  main-stay  of  her  family,  for  Mary  Ann's 
earnings  in  assisting  at  the  hotel  a  part  of  every 
day  through  the  season  and  water-carrying  and 
berry-picking,  moss-basket-making,  and  several 
other  small  employments,  counted  largely  toward 
her  mother's  support.  Her  father  lost  his  leg  by 
an  accident,  so  his  capacity  as  a  bread-winner 
is  greatly  reduced ;  but  by  the  co-operation  of 
the  landlord  of  the  Peconough  House  it  has  all 
been  arranged,  and  now  I  ask  your  kindness  for 
poor  Mary  Ann.  She  is  rough,  uncouth,  and  ig- 
norant of  every  thing  that  goes  to  make  polish 
and  elegance,  but  she  has  a  bright  mind  and  a 
noble  heart. 

"  I  have  told  you  of  her  origin  and  her  almost 
menial  position  in  order  to  account  for  her  pe- 
culiarities of  manner  and  speech,  and  I  have  told 
you  of  the  bravery  that  saved  my  life  to  enlist 
your  interest  in  her ;  and  now  I  ask  you  if  you 


44  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

are  willing  to  overlook  the  obnoxious  points  and 
be  friendly  to  Mary  Ann  ?  " 

"  Indeed  we  will!"  said  they  all  as  with  one 
voice ;  and,  loving  their  teacher  as  they  did,  the 
girls  felt  a  grateful  desire  to  heap  benefits  on  her 
preserver. 

"I  can  see  now,"  said  Mrs.  Abbott,  tears 
starting  to  her  eyes  at  the  evidences  of  her 
scholars'  love  for  her,  "that  I  had  better  have 
told  you  this  story  before  letting  you  see  Mary 
Ann ;  but  we  are  all  apt  to  make  mistakes.  I 
think  I  have  made  another  in  asking  one  of  you 
to  take  her  in  especial  charge,  so  I  withdraw  the 
office  from  you,  Lily." 

"  No,  no,  let  me  '  mother '  Mary  Ann.  Don't 
punish  me  for  my  contemptible  conduct !  "  cried 
Lily,  red  with  shame. 

"  No,  dear,  it  is  not  for  punishment,  but  be- 
cause I  see  ample  reason  for  leaving  any  one  girl 
free  from  individual  responsibility.  I  will  give 
her  into  the  care  of  you  all." 

"  Make  her  a  kind  of  child  of  the  regiment," 
said  Delia. 

"  Yes,  exactly  that.  You  five  may  consider 
yourselves  in  honor  bound  to  look  after  the  inter- 
ests of  poor  Mary  Ann." 

"  I  am  going  to  begin  by  teaching  her  gram- 


MARY  ANN  STUBBS.  45 

mar,"  said  Bell,  at  which  the  others  quite  laughed, 
for  Bell  was  very  weak  on  that  branch  of  learn- 
ing. "  Well,  you  needn't  laugh.  I  don't  say 
'  you  be '  and  '  I  haint/  and  I  don't  think  there's 
any  harm  in  my  telling  her  not  to  do  it." 

"  You  will  be  astonished  when  I  tell  you,"  said 
Mrs.  Abbott,  "  that  Mary  Ann  is  well  grounded 
in  grammar  and  rhetoric,  but  she  has  spent  her 
life  where  no  practical  use  of  them  is  made  in 
conversation  ;  so  the  poor  girl  does  not  know  how. 
to  talk  ;  but  as  soon  as  she  catches  the  idea  that 
her  speech  is  different  from  others  she  will  bend 
every  nerve  to  changing  it.  Her  great  ambition 
is  to  become  a  teacher  and  earn  enough  to  edu- 
cate her  brothers  and  sisters." 

"  Six  of  them  !  "  groaned  Katie. 

"  How  is  she  to  get  clothes  ? "  asked  Bell, 
thinking  of  the  thick  shoes  and  the  vivid  plaid. 
"  She  wouldn't  be  so  bad  if  she  dressed  like 
other  folks." 

"  I  should  have  attended  to  that  before  she 
came,"  said  Mrs.  Abbott,  "  but  when  I  recov- 
ered I  felt  unwilling  to  stay  among  the  mount- 
ains, and  driving  was  no  longer  a  pleasure  to 
me,  so  we  went  to  Narragansett  for  the  rest  of  the 
vacation,  leaving  the  care  of  getting  Mary  Ann 
down  here  in  time  for  school  opening  with  Mrs. 


46  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

Perkins,  the  hotel-keeper's  wife.  I  have  already 
set  the  girl  who  has  been  engaged  to  make  El- 
fie's  dresses  to  work  upon  a  navy-blue  cashmere 
for  Mary  Ann,  and  shoes  of  a  more  girlish 
appearance  she  shall  have  this  afternoon." 

"And  may  I  bring  you  some  cuffs  and  collars 
for  her  ?  "  asked  Bell.  "  Mamma  always  packs  up 
such  an  insane  quantity  of  them  for  me.  I  never 
use  half  of  them." 

"And  I  can  give  her  lots  of  hair-ribbons,"  said 
Katie. 

"O,  please  let  us  fill  her  top  drawer  with  our 
superfluities,"  said  Lily  ;  "  she  will  never  know 
where  they  came  from,  and  it  will  be  great 
fun!" 

Mrs.  Abbott  hesitated. 

"  I  do  not  like  to  destroy  her  independence. 
Her  position  as  occasional  helper  in  the  hotel 
kitchen  did  not  bring  her  into  contact  with  the 
guests,  so  she  was  never  offered  presents  or 
fees. ' ' 

"I  know,"  said  Lily;  "you  want  her  to  feel 
as  good  as  any  one." 

"  Yes,  I  do  ;  and  if  she  is  to  begin  by  accept- 
ing gifts  she  may  get  a  feeling  of  inferiority 
that  I  don't  wish  her  to  have.  ' 

"Well,    wont    you    put    the    things    in    the 


MARY  ANN  STUBBS.  47 

drawer,  and  not  tell  her  we  gave  them  ?  Surely 
she  can  take  a  favor  from  you,"  said  Delia. 

And  so  it  was  arranged.  Mary  Ann  had  her 
raptures  over  gloves,  ribbons,  ruffles,  and  other 
girlish  properties  which  she  had  never  dreamed 
of  possessing,  and  the  girls  who  had  supplied  her 
out  of  their  profusion  were  well  paid  by  seeing 
the  improvement  in  her  appearance  and  hearing 
her  expressions  of  delight  when  she  told  them 
of  the  fifrniture  of  the  top  drawer  she  expected 
to  find  empty. 

Mrs.  Abbott  kept  her  rather  out  of  sight  for  a 
day  or  two,  and  when  school  work  began  in 
earnest  Mary  Ann,  in  her  new  blue  dress,  with 
clean  collar  and  cuffs,  nice  shoes  and  dark  stock- 
ings, was  not  a  conspicuous  figure  till  she  opened 
her  mouth  to  speak. 


48  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

MARY  ANN'S  CHARGE. 

IT  always  takes  nearly  a  week  to  get  a  board- 
ing-school into  good  working  order,  so,  although 
Mrs.  Abbott  appointed  Wednesday  for  arriving, 
she  never  really  expected  much  would  be  done 
till  the  next  Monday.  By  that  time  the  rapture 
of  greeting  between  old  friends,  the  acquaint- 
ances to  be  formed  with  new-comers,  and  the 
natural  touch  of  homesickness  were  supposed  to 
be  over,  and  the  business  of  life  must  begin. 

One  of  the  five  new  scholars  has  been  described. 
The  others  seemed  nice,  quiet,  lady-like  girls,  a 
little  inclined  to  be  teary,  as  was  quite  natural, 
for  they  knew  the  pleasures  of  the  homes  they 
had  left,  and  they  could  not  yet  know  how  much 
there  was  to  enjoy  at  Coventry  school. 

They  all  found  Elfie  a  quiet  comforter,  for  the 
child,  now  that  she  had  become  entirely  at  home, 
seemed  to  take  the  duties  of  a  hostess  upon  her- 
self and  made  very  pretty  little  efforts  to  please 
the  strangers.  Any  other  child  would  have  been 
in  danger  of  being  spoiled  by  the  petting  lav- 


MARY  ANN'S  CHARGE.  49 

ished  upon  her;  she  was  every  one's  darling;  and 
to  have  Elfie  for  an  hour  was  the  greatest  treat 
a  girl  could  have. 

Edna  Tryon,  one  of  the  new  girls,  was  quite 
as  far  advanced  as  any  of  the  old  scholars,  and 
was  put  into  the  class  with  them.  She  had  been 
for  years  at  a  fashionable  city  school,  but  having, 
as  her  mother  thought,  shown  some  symptoms 
of  delicate  health,  she  was  brought  to  Mrs. 
Abbott's  in  hopes  the  pure  country  air  might  be 
of  advantage. 

There  was  something  very  attractive  about 
Edna  Tryon's  appearance;  teachers  and  girls 
were  pleased  with  her  from  the  first,  but  as  time 
went  on  she  developed  some  unlovely  traits,  and 
brought  from  the  fashionable  school  she  had  at- 
tended ideas  which  were  quite  at  variance  with 
Mrs.  Abbott's  system.  She  was  rather  a  shrewd 
girl,  and  by  appealing  to  certain  weaknesses  she 
was  quick  to  discover  in  a  girl's  character  was 
able  to  acquire  an  influence  over  her.  She  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  very  much  of  an  influence 
over  Katie  Ashley,  and  through  her  became  on 
excellent  terms  with  all  the  Friendly  Five. 

After  Mrs.  Abbott's  conversation  with  the 
Friendly  Five  about  Mary  Ann  they  had  treated 
her  with  kindness,  and  their  example  had  made 


50  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

her  much  better  received  by  the  other  scholars 
than  she  would  have  been,  for  school-girls  are 
very  critical,  and  there  was  much  in  Mary  Ann's 
speech  and  manner  to  which  to  object. 

Edna  treated  her  with  great  haughtiness  from 
the  first,  and  Lily,  seeing  how  often  Mary  Ann 
was  wounded  by  her  arrogance,  asked  for  liberty 
to  tell  her  the  story  of  how  she  came  to  be  there ; 
but  Mrs.  Abbott,  thinking  it  better  no  one  else 
should  know  what  a  humble  position  she  had 
held,  withheld  her  permission,  at  the  same  time 
thanking  Lily  for  wishing  to  befriend  Mary  Ann. 

"  It  gives  me  great  joy,  my  dear,  to  see  that 
you  persist  in  your  kindness  to  poor  Mary  Ann. 
She  tells  me  that  all  of  you  to  whom  I  told  her 
story  are  brave  champions." 

"  I  am  sorry  she  needs  a  champion, "  said  Lily  ; 
"  but  you  know  it  is  a  temptation  to  make  fun 
of  her  green  ways  and  looks ;  but  she  is  improv- 
ing, and  I  think  it's  perfectly  grand  the  way  she 
asks  us  to  tell  her  of  her  faults.  I  should  be  fu- 
rious if  any  one  told  me  of  mine.  To  tell  the 
truth,  I  don't  like  to  think  people  know  I  have 
any." 

"  We  cannot  too  much  admire  Mary  Ann's  de- 
termination to  improve  herself,  and  I  hope,  Lily, 
you  will  continue  to  be  her  friend." 


MARY  ANN'S  CHARGE.  51 

Lily  promised  and  fully  meant  to  keep  her 
word,  but,  as  Mrs.  Abbott  had  learned  by  past 
experience,  Lily  had  two  failings  which  some- 
times made  her  a  little  trying  to  those  who  loved 
her  most :  her  disposition  to  seek  amusement, 
even  if  she  had  to  do  it  at  a  friend's  expense, 
and  her  easy  nature,  made  her  too  easily  led 
away  from  her  good  intentions.  But  she  had  of 
late  struggled  with  these  besetting  sins,  as  she 
called  them  herself,  and  her  teacher  hoped  they 
would  at  last  disappear. 

No  one's  general  average  in  the  week's  report 
was  ever  higher  than  Mary  Ann's.  She  was  not 
only  a  remarkably  quick  student,  but  she  appre- 
ciated, more  than  any  one  else  in  the  school, 
the  great  blessing  of  an  education.  Gratitude 
to  Mrs.  Abbott  was  another  spur  to  industry, 
and  her  studiousness  and  desire  to  learn  made 
her  a  favorite  with  the  teachers. 

She  still  had  much  to  bear  from  the  scholars, 
who  were  thoughtlessly  cruel,  and  laughed  at 
her  many  blunders ;  but  their  causes  of  merri- 
ment were  gradually  disappearing,  for  Mary  Ann 
was  so  well  aware  of  her  defects  and  so  watch- 
ful to  correct  them  that  Mrs.  Abbott  told  her 
one  day,  finding  her  plunged  in  despair,  that 
before  long,  with  her  great  desire  for  improve 


52  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

ment  and  the  rough  process  of  polishing  she  was 
enduring,  she  would  acquire  the  agreeable  man- 
ner of  speech  and  action  she  admired  in  the 
other  girls. 

"O,  you  are  so  kind  to  me,  ma'am,"  said 
grateful  Mary  Ann,  "  and  I  wisht  you'd  gimme — 
give  me,  I  mean — something  to  do  for  you.  You 
said  to  my  mother  there  was  work  I  could  do 
here." 

"  I  have  changed  my  mind  about  that.  If  I 
were  to  let  you  do  the  light  service  I  had  ex- 
pected to  I  fear  the  others  would  be  less  likely 
to  treat  you  as  an  equal,  and,  dear,  I  think  you 
have  enough  to  struggle  against  without  that 
drawback.  I  have  decided  to  ask  of  you  some- 
thing much  more  serious  and  important  than  I 
had  intended.  To  explain  myself,  I  must  tell 
you  something  in  strict  confidence ;  I  am  quite 
sure  I  may  trust  you." 

Mary  Ann  began  to  pledge  her  solemn  word 
in  the  strong  language  in  which  she  had  been  ac- 
customed to  hear  such  assertions  made  ;  but  Mrs. 
Abbott  stopped  her,  saying : 

"  One  look  at  your  face  is  all  I  need  to  show 
me  you  can  keep  a  secret." 

The  honest  eyes  she  looked  into  were  shining 
with  pleasure,  and '"Mrs.  Abbott  smiled  lovingly 


MARY  ANN'S  CHARGE.  53 

At  the  girl  as,  taking  her  little  hard  hand  in  her 
o\vn,  she  told  the  pitiful  story  of  Ethel's  mother's 
short,  sad  life. 

She  had  become  engaged  while  her  father  was 
abroad,  having  left  her  in  the  care  of  a  friend 
who  proved  very  reckless  of  the  trust,  to  a  man 
in  every  way  unworthy  of  her.  Mr.  Bellamy,  on 
his  return,  at  first  refused  his  consent,  but  Ethel, 
always  delicate,  seemed  unable  to  bear  disap- 
pointment, and,  having  no  actual  proof  of  Mr. 
Gray's  umvorthiness,  his  fears  for  her  health 
made  him  consent  to  their  marriage.  There 
were  two  years  of  sad  experience,  and  then  Mr. 
Bellamy,  learning  of  wrongs  which  had  been 
carefully  concealed  from  him  and  which  fully 
justified  the  severest  measures,  insisted  upon  a 
legal  separation,  and  brought  Mrs.  Gray  and  her 
little  daughter  back  to  his  own  home  in  San 
Francisco.  Soon  the  older  Ethel  died,  leaving 
her  baby  Elfie  to  her  grandfather's  care. 

"  To  guard  against  interference  he  legally 
adopted  Elfie,  giving  her  his  own  name,  and  he 
never  means  to  have  her  know,  if  it  can  be 
helped,  th#t  she  has  a  father  living." 

"Within  the  past  year,"  continued  Mrs.  Ab- 
bott, "  Mr.  Bellamy  has  found  the  worthless  fa- 
ther very  troublesome,  and  has  grave  fears  that 


54  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

he  will  try  to  get  possession  of  Elfie,  probably 
with  the  hope  of  getting  hold  of  the  money 
which  she  inherits  from  her  mother,  independ- 
ently of  her  grandfather's  large  fortune.  He 
made  one  attempt  in  San  Francisco,  but  happily 
his  plot  was  discovered.  Mr.  Bellamy  believes 
the  man  will  think  he  has  of  course  taken  Elfie 
to  England  with  him,  and  has  little  fear  for  her 
here  under  my  care. 

"  Candace  can  be  trusted  to  watch  and  defend 
her  if  necessary,  for  she  would  be  a  tigress  if 
danger  threatened  her  darling;  but  poor  Candace 
keeps  having  attacks  of  rheumatism.  Change  of 
climate  must  have  developed  it,  for  she  was  never 
afflicted  that  way  before.  When  her  nurse  has 
a  sick  day  some  one  else  must  guard  Elfie,  and 
you,  my  dear,  will  do  it  more  faithfully,  I  firmly 
believe,  than  any  one  else  in  the  house." 

Mrs.  Abbott  rose  as  she  finished,  and  kissed  the 
earnest,  honest  face  of  her  listener. 

Mary  Ann's  dark  eyes  were  beaming  with  joy 
at  being  so  trusted ;  but  though  she  longed  to 
say  that  she  would  be  faithful — yes,  faithful  unto 
death,  if  necessary — there  was  such  a  choking  in 
her  throat  that  she  could  only  answer  by  press- 
ing the  dear  hand  that  held  hers. 


ELFIE  TELLS  A  STORY.  55 


CHAPTER  VII. 

ELFIE  TELLS  A  STORY. 

Six  of  the  girls  were  spending  the  Saturday 
mending-hour  in  Lily's  room.  All  the  girls  in 
the  school  were  required  to  spend  that  one  hour 
in  sewing,  and  as  rents  and  holes  were  subject  to 
fines  and  bad  marks  it  became  an  unwritten  law 
that  the  hour  was  to  be  spent  in  mending.  The 
little  girls  were  expected  to  do  their  mending  in 
the  smaller  recitation-room,  with  one  of  the 
teachers  to  direct  and  assist  them,  but  the  larger 
ones  were  allowed  to  work  in  their  rooms. 

"  It  is  not  a  hilarious  pursuit,"  said  Lily,  look- 
ing solemnly  at  a  three-sided  tear  above  the  hem 
of  a  clean  white  skirt,  "and  I  am  very  sorry  that 
there  seems  to  be  such  a  deep-seated  prejudice 
against  the  Chinese." 

"  And  what  earthly  connection  is  there  be- 
tween mending  and  Chinese?" 

"  The  connection,  my  inquisitive  Bertha,  is  not 
with  mending,  but  abolishing  the  necessity  for 
the  practice,  which  I  regard  as  a  most  disagree- 
able one.  I  have  understood  that  the  gentle 


56  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

creatures  with  the  peanut-colored  complexions 
and  the  blinking,  bias  eyes  are  acquainted  with 
a  process  for  making  paper  undergarments,  which 
are  taken  off  when  soiled  and  used  for  lighting 
fires.  I  suppose  if  my  lovely  figure  were  draped 
in  paper  I  should  make  a  cheerful  rattling  as  I 
walked  about,  and  toward  the  close  of  a  paper  gar- 
ment's career  I  might  even  have  to  tie  it  about 
me  with  twine,  like  any  other  paper-wrapped 
package.  Still,  I  should  prefer  it  to  mending 
cotton  materials,  and  so  I  wish  they  would  offer 
the  Chinese  inducements  to  stay  here  and  begin 
manufacturing." 

The  girls  were  convulsed  with  laughter,  for 
Lily  had  an  overwhelmingly  droll  way  of  mak- 
ing her  highly  original  remarks. 

"  I  have  no  mending  to  do,"  said  Katie;  "so 
if  you  want  me  to  read  aloud  I  am  quite  at  your 
service." 

Lily  laid  down  her  work  and  looked  reproach- 
fully at  the  speaker.  "  Have  you  stolen  a  march 
on  me,  uncandid  Katherine,  with  a  K,  and  sup- 
plied yourself  with  a  full  line  of  paper  garments 
while  I  am  still  groveling  in  cotton  cloth?  " 

"  No  ;  I  wear  as  much  muslin  as  you  do,  and 
wear  and  tear  it  into  twice  as  many  holes.  I  laid 
a  frightful  pile  of  clothes  that  wanted  mending 


ELFIE  TELLS  A  STORY.  57 

on  my  table  yesterday,  but  when  I  went  to  bed 
I  found  them  all  mended.'* 

"  That  sounds  supernatural,"  said  Lily,  using 
her  chest  tones  and  speaking  sepulchrally ;  "  I  am 
afraid  it  was  the  work  of  no  mortal  fingers.  Per- 
haps you  have  a  ghostly  double  who  sits  and 
sews  while  you  otherwise  amuse  yourself." 

"  O,  stop  talking  that  way,"  said  Katie  ;  "  you 
make  me  feel  creepy ;  I  know  well  enough  who 
did  it.  It  was  Mary  Ann." 

"How  very  nice !"  said  Edna,  airily;  "I  be- 
lieve I  will  hire  her  services  too.  I  have  plenty 
of  pocket-money  to  spare,  for  there's  no  way  of 
spending  it  here." 

"  But  she  didn't  do  it  for  pay,"  protested 
Katie  ;  "  it's  because  she  likes  me." 

"And  because  you  are  always  so  nice  to  her," 
said  Lily,  with  an  approving  nod  which  greatly 
pleased  Katie. 

Edna  drew  up  her  lip  scornfully.  "  I  should 
not  accept  unpaid  services,"  she  said,  loftily. 

"  Do  excuse  my  forgetfulness,"  exclaimed  Lily, 
hurriedly  fumbling  in  her  little  purse.  "  O,  can 
any  one  change  a  half-dollar;  nevermind,  here's 
some  pennies,  one,  two,  three,  four,  five.  Here, 
Edna,  is  this  about  right  for  gluing  my  photo- 
case  so  nicely  the  other  day?  " 


58  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  Why,  Lily  Dart  !  How  dare  you  offer  me 
money  !"  exclaimed  Edna,  springing  up  and  scat- 
tering the  pennies  Lily  had  tossed  into  her  lap 
in  every  direction. 

The  other  girls  looked  shocked  too ;  but  Lily 
serenely  said,  "  I  must  be  stupid,  but  I  thought 
you  said  you  wouldn't  accept  unpaid  services, 
and  I  felt  reproached  at  once  for  not  having  as 
good  a  rule  of  conduct  as  yours." 

Edna  looked  violently  angry,  but  before  she 
could  express  her  indignant  sentiments  there 
was  a  little  tap  on  the  door,  and  Mrs.  Abbott  and 
Elfie  came  in. 

Perhaps  Mrs.  Abbott  could  tell  by  Edna's 
flushed  cheeks  and  the  angry  tears  which  filled 
her  eyes  that  something  disagreeable  was  in 
progress,  but  she  gave  no  sign  of  noticing  any 
thing,  and  after  a  few  minutes  of  pleasant  chat 
asked  if  she  might  leave  Elfie  with  them  till  the 
sewing-hour  was  up. 

Bertha,  with  a  fear  that  Edna  and  Lily  might 
recommence  the  interrupted  conversation,  invited 
Elfie  to  tell  them  a  story  while  they  sewed. 

"I  can't  tell  a  book  story,"  said  the  child, 
"  but  I'll  tell  you  one  that  Mammy  Candace  tells, 
or  I'll  tell  you  one  of  Marion's  history  stories." 

"  Which  would  you  rather  tell,  Elfie?  " 


ELFIE  TELLS  A  STORY.  59 

"  I  sink  I'd  rather  tell  one  of  mammy's  stories, 
'cause  I  forget  the  history  names." 

"  Very  well,  do  as  you  like." 

"  Well,  once  dere  was  a  little  girl,  'bout  so  big 
as  me,  and  her  mother  telled  her  to  go  over  the 
field  and  take  some  nice  custard  in  a  bowl  to  a 
poor  sick  woman  in  a  little  bit  o'  cabin.  So  she 
put  on  her  little  hat  an'  corned  an'  corned 
an'  corned  till  she  'most  come  to  de  little 
cabin.  Den  she  sat  down  under  a  bush 
an'  she  look  in  de  bowl,  an'  de  custard  look 
yellow  like  gole,  an'  smooth  like  silk,  an'  den  she 
took  a  holly-leaf  an'  she  ate  de  nice  custard  all 
up.  An'  den  she  lie  down  an'  go  sleep.  Pretty 
soon  dere  comes  big  bumble-bee,  buzz-buzz-buzz, 
an'  she  wakes  up  an'  says,  'Go  'way,  bad  bee.' 
But  de  bee  say,  '  No,  no  ;  I  goin'  ter  sting  a  bad 
chile  doan'  mine  'er  mudder.'  " 

The  girls  were  noticing  with  much  amusement 
that  Elfie  was  unconsciously  imitating  the  South- 
ern accent  Candace  used. 

"Den  a  HI'  chipmunk  come  an'  say,  '  Cha-cha- 
cha-cha,  I  goin'  bite  her  HI'  toes,  'cause  she  doan' 
mine  'er  mudder.'  Den  a  HI'  owl  comes  an'  says, 
'  Who-a-who-a-who,  I  goin'  pull  'er  har,  'cause  she 
doan'  mine  'er  mudder.'  Den  dere  comes  a  HI' 
chink-bug,  tick-a-tick-a-tick-a,  an'  says,  '  I  goin' 


60  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

pinch  'er,  'cause  she  doan'  mine  'er  mudder.' 
Den  dey  all  say,  '  Sting  'er,  bite  'er,  pull  'er, 
pinch  'er,  'cause  she  doan'  mine  'er  mudder.' 
So  she  cry  an'  holler,  an'  de  poor  sick  woman 
crawls  outer  bed  an'  sends  'em  all  off.  Den  she 
says,  '  You  got  somefin'  nice  for  me  in  dat  blue 
bowl? — somefin'  you  mudder  send  me,  yellow 
as  gole  an'  smooth  as  silk?  Gib  it  to  me,  'cause 
I  got  nuffin'  to  eat.' 

"  Dat  was  the  worse  of  all,  an'  de  HI'  girl  runs 
out  de  door  an'  runs  home  an'  says,  'Mudder, 
mudder,  gib  me  all  de  supper  I  can  have  ;'  an'  de 
mudder  gibs  her  bread  an'  milk  an'  jam-tart,  an' 
she  takes  'em  an'  runs  'way,  'way  off  to  de  cabin, 
to  gib  'em  to  de  sick  woman,  an'  de  bee,  an' 
de  chipmunk,  and  de  lil'  owl,  and  de  chink-bug, 
dey  all  corned  too,  an'  dey  didn't  sting  'er,  nor 
bite  'er,  nor  pull  'er,  nor  pinch  'er,  'cause  she  was 
sorry  she  was  bad  an'  didn't  mine  'er  mudder. 

"  I  can  tell  you  better  stories  when  I  know 
how  to  read,"  said  Elfie,  modestly,  as  she  received 
their  thanks  for  the  one  she  had  just  told  in  a 
highly  dramatic  manner.  "  I  have  a  beautiful 
big  book  of  stories  called  The  Raving  Nights,  but 
Auntie  Abbott  wont  let  me  have  the  stories  read 
to  me,  because  I  heard  her  tell  Miss  Blake  I  was 
too — too  magical  now." 


ELFIE  TELLS  A  STORY.  61 

"  Imaginative,  wasn't  it  ?  " 

"O,  yes  ;  dat  was  it." 

"  Well,"  said  Lily,  who  had  seen  the  big  story- 
book, "  '  magical '  isn't  a  bad  word  for  the  A  rattan 
Nights." 

"And  '  Raving'  is  as  forcible  as  the  real  title," 
added  Edna,  who  seemed  to  have  recovered  her 
temper. 
5 


62  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

A  RAINY  DAY. 

AFTER  a  week  of  such  glorious  weather  that 
it  was  a  pleasure  merely  to  be  alive  there  came 
a  day  when  the  rain  fell  in  hopeless  torrents. 

"  I  wouldn't  quarrel  with  the  weather,"  said 
Lily,  gloomily,  "  if  it  had  the  propriety  to  do  the 
right  thing  Saturday ;  but  when  our  only  holi- 
day is  spoiled  it  seems  a  little  exasperating.  I've 
flattened  my  classic  features  against  the  window- 
pane  as  long  as  I  can  stand  it,  but  I  can't  find  a 
symptom  of  clearing  up." 

"Let's  do  something  amusing,"  said  Louie 
Field.  "  There  is  no  fun  in  just  wishing  it  would 
stop  raining,  and  that's  what  we've  been  doing, 
with  intervals  for  yawning,  for  the  last  hour." 

"Amusing!  Well,  I  like  that !  What's  going 
to  amuse  us?"  asked  Bell  Burgoyne,  scornfully. 

"Capping  verses  is  pretty  good  fun,"  said 
Mary  Ann,  modestly.  It  was  seldom  she  made 
a  suggestion  ;  but  Edna,  who  generally  snapped 
her  up  with  a  sarcasm,  or  silenced  her  proposals 
with  blighting  sneers,  was  out  of  the  way  now. 


A  RAINY  DAY.  63 

"  That's  so,"  said  Katie,  looking  up  from  a 
struggle  with  the  accounts  that  her  father  re- 
quired her  to  keep  of  her  very  liberal  supply  of 
pocket-money.  "  It  is  fun,  but  I  don't  remem- 
ber exactly  how  it's  played.  You  write  a  line  of 
poetry  and  then  fold  the  paper  over  it  and  pass 
it  along  for  your  next  neighbor  to  write  a  line 
that  rhymes  with  it,  don't  you?" 

"  Yes ;  that's  one  way,  but  we  used  to  play  it 
another  way  for  a  change.  Let's  try  your  way 
first,  and  then  I'll  show  you  how  we  used  to  play 
it  at  Chemunk." 

There  was  much  stirring  about  for  a  few  min- 
utes to  find  pencils  and  paper,  and  then  a  half 
sheet  of  foolscap  was  handed  to  Lily,  who  wrote 
a  heading  and  then  a  first  line. 

"Arrayed,"  she  said,  passing  the  paper  on  to 
Katie,  after  carefully  turning  down  her  line  so 
that  no  one  could  read  it. 

"  No  one  can  make  a  rhyme  to  that,"  said 
Katie,  who  was  not  blessed  with  a  powerful 
rhyming  talent ;  "  that's  one  of  the  words  there's 
no  rhyme  to,  like  silver  and  twelfth." 

"  Maid,  shade,  glade,  played,"  suggested  Mary 
Ann. 

"  O,  yes,"  said  Katie ;  "  but  I  don't  know  a 
line  of  poetry  that  ends  in  any  of  those  words." 


64  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  Give  Mary  Ann  your  turn,  then,"  said  Lily, 
"  and  may  be  you'll  get  an  easier  word."- 

So  Mary  Ann  wrote  a  line  rapidly  and  then 
passed  the  paper  to  Lottie  Bush,  who  wrote  an- 
other rhyme  to  it,  for  the  versification  was  to  be 
in  triplets.  Then  Katie,  thinking  it  would  be 
easier  to  inaugurate  a  rhyme  than  to  find  one, 
began  a  new  verse  and  gave  "  tale  "  as  the  final 
word  of  her  line. 

Some  of  the  party  were  very  quick,  but  others 
had  to  expend  much  thought  on  their  lines ;  so 
quite  a  little  while  passed  before  the  poem  was 
finished  and  handed  to  Lily  to  read. 

"Ahem!"  she  began,  clearing  her  throat. 
"This  remarkable  poem  is  the  joint  production 
of  a  number  of  first-class  poets.  It  was  original 
sometime,  and  it  is  called — 

"MANY  LINES  FROM  MANY  PENS,  BY  LOTS  OF  FOLKS. 

"  An  Austrian  army  awfully  arrayed, 
Sure,  I'm  but  a  simple  village  maid, 
Blossomed  and  ripened  in  woodland  shade. 

"  Hope  told  a  flattering  tak, 

She  began  to  weep,  and  she  began  to  wail, 

Come  in  thy  beauty,  tliou  marvel  of  duty,  sweet  Annie  of  the  vale. 

"  Roll  on,  thou  dark  and  deep  blue  ocean,  roll, 
Nor  lay  that  flattering  unction  to  your  soul ; 
And  the  distant  bells  softly  toll,  toll,  toll. 


A  RAINY  DAY.  65 

"  Hark,  from  the  tombs  a  doleful  sound  ; 

The  spot  whereon  thou  stand'st  js  holy  ground  ; 

He  cleared  the  barrier  with  a  single  bound. 

"  Have  you  not  heard  the  poet  tell. 
Ding,  dong,  dell,  pussy's  in  the  well. 
Down  in  the  meadow,  sweet  blue  belL" 


"  That  wasn't  bad  fun,"  said  Louie.  "  Now 
suppose  we  try  the  other  way.  Tell  us  how  you 
do  it,  Mary  Ann." 

"  You  compose  four  lines  of  poetry,  or  stuff — 
of  course  you  can't  really  call  it  poetry — and 
leave  off  the  rhymes,  and  pass  it  to  the  next  one 
to  guess  out  the  rhymes  and  put  them  in." 

"  But,  my  goodness,  child,  we  can't  all  com- 
pose poetry  !  What  do  you  take  us  for?  "  asked 
Louie.  "  Wont  it  do  to  quote  four  lines  from  a 
book?  " 

"  Not  quite  so  well,  for  it  might  be  familiar, 
and  then  there'd  be  no  skill  in  getting  the 
rhymes." 

"  O,  let's  try  it,"  said  Lily.  "  It  needn't  be 
real  poetry,  as  Mary  Ann  says,  and  we'll  get 
some  fun  out  of  it,  I  guess." 

Some  narrow  strips  of  paper  were  supplied  to 
each  of  the  party,  who,  with  the  exception  of 
two  or  three  who  declared  it  was  impossible  for 
them  to  think  of  any  thing  to  write,  were  soon 


66  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

busy  trying  to  wrench  poetical  ideas  from  their 
puzzled  brains. 

Parodies  were  the  easiest  to  write,  Mary  Ann 
had  said ;  so  most  of  the  verses  when  done  bore 
strong  suggestions  of  very  familiar  songs  or 
poems,  and  after  they  were  written  it  was  not 
hard  for  most  of  the  girls  to  supply  the  rhymes. 

Edna,  who  came  in  too  late  to  join  in  com- 
posing, was  chosen  to  read  the  verses  to  them 
after  they  were  done.  There  were  no  names 
signed  and  it  was  some  sport  to  guess  the  au- 
thors. The  first  one  selected  from  the  pile  had 
an  easy  jingle  about  it  that  made  the  girls  certain 
it  was  from  Lily's  ready  pen.  It  was  headed  : 

"  ODE   TO    MY    FRIEND. 

"I  never  told  the  truth,  but — 

And  then  I  told  it — 
I  said  you  were  an  awful — 

But  you  needn't  have  felt  so — 

"Now,  guess  the  rhyme,"  said  the  reader, 
who  knew  what  they  were  because,  according  to 
rule,  they  were  written  on  the  back.  "  It's  an 
every-other-line  rhyme,  and  the  second  one  is 
'  gladly.'  It  isn't  quite  fair  to  tell  you  that,  but 
you'll  never  guess  it  if  I  don't  give  you  some 
clew." 

There  was  much  puzzling  about   fitting  the 


A  RAINY  DAY.  67 

rhymes,  but  Mary  Ann  and  Bell  succeeded  in 
finding  them  and  comfortably  fitted  "  once," 
"dunce,"  "gladly,"  "badly,"  into  their  places 
at  the  end  of  the  lines. 

The  next  verse  was  easier,  and  even  Katie 
found  no  great  difficulty  in  supplying  the 
missing  words : 

"  O,  being  at  school  is  pretty  good — 

But  going  home  is — 
I'll  be  full  of  joy  when  the  term  is — 

And  I'll  write  you  a  farewell — " 

"  The  '  fun,'  '  done,'  '  better,'  '  letter,'  that  be- 
long to  that  verse  are  what  I  call  self-evident 
rhymes,"  said  Lily,  "and  it's  no  fun  to  guess 
them,  for  they  say  themselves,  almost.  Now, 
wait  till  I  write  you  something  grand,  gloomy, 
and  obscure,  with  rhymes  that  don't  shout  them- 
selves out  at  you." 

"After  Browning,  I  suppose." 

"  O,  miles  after.  Now,  hush,  or  I  can't  hear 
the  whispering  of  my  muse."  And  Lily  rolled 
up  her  eyes,  and  with  her  hand  bending  her  ear 
forward  put  on  a  rapt  appearance  of  listening. 
Then  with  a  bow  to  the  corner  of  the  ceiling 
and  a  grateful,  "  Thanks,  thanks,  madam,  for 
your  timely  assistance,"  supposed  to  be  ad- 
dressed to  the  obliging  but  invisible  muse,  she 


68  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

began    to   scribble  rapidly,  in  a  few   moments 
handing  this  effusion  to  Edna  to  read  : 

"  Oft  in  the  chilly — 

When  wandering  cats  are — 
I  fly  out  to  the — 

And  bid  them  stop  their — 
Their  shrieks  and — 
Their  howls  and — 
Have  driven  me  almost  crazy." 

That  was  considered  funny,  because  two  of 
the  girls  had  actually  jumped  out  of  bed  at  day- 
light to  suppress  some  unmelodious  cats  whose 
wails  had  kept  them  awake ;  but  their  united 
efforts  could  not  produce  all  the  needful  rhymes ; 
so  Edna  read  them  off  from  the  back  of  the 
paper:  "dawn,  howling,  lawn,  yowling,  groans, 
moans." 

It  was  a  noticeable  fact  that  when  Edna  joined 
a  circle  which  included  Mary  Ann  the  latter 
soon  made  an  excuse  for  leaving;  so  after  the 
last  poetry  had  been  read  and  laughed  at  she 
quietly  slipped  out  of  the  room,  leaving  the 
others  to  continue  the  sport  without  her. 

Edna  commented  on  her  departure  with  a 
sarcastic  supposition  that  she  had  probably  gone 
to  seek  more  congenial  society  in  the  servants' 
quarters,  and,  although  there  was  not  a  girl  pres- 
ent who  believed  what  she  said,  still  there  were 


A  RAINY  DAY.  69 

none  who  openly  contradicted  her,  for  Edna  had 
acquired  a  sort  of  influence  over  the  girls  that 
required  some  moral  courage  to  combat. 

Study-hour  came  soon  after  for  some  of  them, 
but  the  half-dozen  older  ones  who  were  left 
kept  on  making  the  verses,  which,  unfortunately, 
assumed  a  personal  character  that  made  them 
seem  very  pointed  and  witty  to  the  thoughtless 
girls,  but  which  led  to  unhappy  results  a  week 
later. 


70  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

SOME    LEAVES    FROM    A   DIARY. 

GENERALLY  keeping  a  diary  is  very  much  a 
matter  of  sentiment,  but  with  Katie  Ashley  it 
was  done  only  in  fulfillment  of  a  promise,  and 
not  at  all  from  any  desire  to  record  either  feel- 
ings or  events.  Mrs.  Ashley  had  several  daugh- 
ters, all  well  educated,  but  all  singularly  averse 
to  writing  letters.  They  were  dutiful  enough  in 
other  ways,  but  it  was  very  uncomfortable  for 
their  mother  when  she  was  separated  from  them 
to  have  no  communication  except  through  an 
occasional  telegraphic  dispatch.  It  was  too 
late  to  make  a  reform  with  grown-up  children, 
but  Mrs.  Ashley  determined  that  Katie,  her 
youngest  child,  should  become  so  familiar  with 
her  pen  that  she  would  be  free  from  the  family 
failing;  so  she  exacted  the  promise  when  she 
sent  her  to  boarding-school  that  made  daily 
entries  in  her  elegantly  bound  diary  the  condi- 
tion of  receiving  a  larger  allowance  of  pocket- 
money  than  had  ever  been  given  -to  her  sisters. 

The  record  was  to  be  kept  entirely  private — 


SOME  LEAVES  FROM  A  DIARY.          71 

sacred,  Katie  called  it — and  no  one  at  home  was 
ever  to  ask  to  see  it  or  even  to  allude  to  it. 
But  in  the  vacations,  when  Katie  used  to  go  off 
on  little  trips  with  her  mother,  she  used  to  get 
very  confidential  at  bed-time,  and  her  talks 
about  school  usually  ended  in  her  getting  the 
book  out  of  her  trunk,  and  the  tiny  silver  key  off 
her  watch-chain,  and  unlocking  the  miniature 
padlock  which  secured  the  covers,  and  reading 
page  after  page  aloud  to  her  very  appreciative 
hearer.  Sometimes  the  details  were  very  scant, 
sometimes  they  were  quite  full  and  interesting. 
It  all  depended  on  the  writer's  mood  at  the 
time  of  writing.  A  few  specimens  will  show  the 
curious  variations  in  this  respect : 

"  September  18. 
"  Arrived  here  at  school. 

"  September  19. 

"  Five  new  girls.  One  is  a  beauty,  prettier 
than  Lily ;  her  name  is  Edna  Try  on.  Seems  to 
feel  pretty  aristocratic — turns  her  nose  up  at 
almost  every  thing. 

"  September  20. 

41 1  forgot  to  put  down  that  one  of  the  new 
girls  looks  like  a  chambermaid,  and  a  very  poor 
class  of  one,  too.  She  don't  compare  to  our 


72  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

maids.  Mrs.  Abbott  wants  us  to  be  good  to  her. 
There's  a  long  story  about  it,  very  interesting. 
Mem. — Tell  mamma  about  it  when  I  get  home. 

"  September  21. 
"The  girls  are  horrid  to  Mary  Ann  Stubbs. 

"  September  22. 

"Little  Elfie  is  an  angel.  We  all  love  her  to 
death.  I  took  a  walk  with  her  and  her  black 
mammy  to-day. 

"  September  23. 

"  There's  a  funny  thing  I  never  thought  to  put 
down  before.  When  we  got  back  to  school  we 
found  the  high  iron  front  gate  taken  down  and 
heavy  wooden  doors  with  a  big  bolt  put  in  its 
place.  Mrs.  Abbott  hasn't  told  us  why  it  was 
done,  and  Miss  Blake  only  said  that  Mr.  Bellamy 
had  it  done.  It's  horrid  ;  we  are  entirely  shut  in. 
The  board  fence  has  spikes  on  it,  so  we  couldn't 
climb  up  and  look  over  if  we  wanted  to.  We 
used  to  be  very  fond  of  looking  out  of  the  iron 
gate.  Edna  says  she  thinks  there  is  some  mys- 
tery somewhere.  She  wont  tell  what  she  means, 
but  she  says  an  old  man  where  they  used  to 
live  put  a  high  board  wall  around  his  place  and 
then  got  married  and  made  counterfeit  money. 


SOME  LEAVES  FROM  A  DIARY.          73 

That's  silly,  for  Mrs.  Abbott  hasn't  got  any  tools 
and  machinery  ;  besides,  she  would  never  do  any 

thing  wrong. 

"  September  23. 

"  Knew  all  my  lessons.  Lily  missed  in  polit- 
ical economy. 

"  September  24. 

"  I  missed  in  algebra — generally  do. 

"  September  25. 

"  New  French  teacher  came.  Made  us  all 
laugh  at  prayers.  When  it  was  her  turn  to 
read  a  verse  she  read,  '  And  He  healed  de  six,' 

instead  of  the  sick. 

"  September  26. 

"  Mrs.  Abbott  went  to  New  York  to-day.  She 
wont  be  back  till  to-morrow  night. 

"  September  27. 

"  To-day  Edna  said  to  Lily  and  me,  '  Let's 
slip  out  the  back  gate  and  go  to  the  village. 
Miss  Blake's  so  near-sighted  she  wont  see  us.' 
Lily  was  angry,  and  told  Edna  she  insulted  her 
by  asking  her  to  do  such  a  thing  when  she  knew 
Mrs.  Abbott  objected.  After  she  had  gone 
down-stairs  Edna  said,  '  Lily's  a  born  coward. 
She'd  just  love  to  go  out  that  gate,  but  she's  so 
afraid  she  daresn't.  Now  you've  got  more  pluck. 


74  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

and  I  do  like  to  see  a  girl  who  isn't  a  'fraid 
cat.'  After  that  I  was  afraid  to  refuse,  so  I  guess 
I  was  a  coward  myself.  We  went  up  to  the 
store,  and  Edna  bought  raisins  and  nuts,  and  I 
bought  a  pine-apple  and  some  packages  of  loz- 
enges. They  don't  keep  much  of  any  thing  nice 
at  the  store. 

"  September  28. 

"  Last  evening  Edna  and  I  gave  a  party  in  her 
room  after  we  went  up  to  bed.  We  had  nuts 
and  raisins,  and  the  pine-apple  was  cut  into 
slices ;  but  it  was  sour.  Edna  ran  into  the 
dining-room  pantry  and  grabbed  a  cupful  of 
salt.  She  thought  it  was  sugar.  Luckily  she 
found  it  out  before  she  had  sprinkled  much  on 
the  pine-apple.  Edna  said  the  party  was  great 
fun,  but  I  didn't  have  a  very  nice  time.  I  kept 
thinking  what  if  Miss  Blake  should  come  in  and 
ask  where  we  got  the  things. 

"  September  29. 

"  Some  of  us  were  in  the  front  yard  at  recess 
and  the  gate-bell  rang.  Bertha  said,  '  Come  in 
the  house,  quick,  before  Johnny  comes  to  an- 
swer the  bell.' 

"  I  started  to  go  with  the  others,  but  Edna  held 
on  to  me  till  Johnny  came  up  and  opened  the 
gate.  We  heard  him  say : 


SOME  LEAVES  FROM  A  DIARY.          75 

" '  Mrs.  Abbott  is  away,  and  I  don't  think 
there's  any  ribbons  or  things  wanted  to-day.' 

"  '  Good,  it's  a  peddler,'  said  Edna.  '  Let  him 
come  in.  I  want  some  thread  and  some  shoe- 
buttons.' 

"  We  could  see  a  man  with  a  covered  basket, 
and  he  seemed  anxious  to  get  in,  for  he  pushed 
the  gate  open.  I  knew  Mrs.  Abbott  wouldn't 
like  it,  as  she  never  would  have  peddlers  about, 
but  you  can't  reason  with  Edna  ;  she  just  made 
Johnny  let  him  in.  Edward  never  would  have 
done  it,  but  he  has  gone  home  because  his 
mother's  sick,  and  this  boy  has  taken  his  place 
a  while. 

"  I  am  almost  afraid  the  peddler  was  a  burglar, 
for  he  looked  around  so  searchingly  and  up  to 
every  window,  and  made  an  excuse  to  go  a  little 
farther  in,  so  he  could  look  into  the  arbor.  I 
took  a  good  look  at  him,  because  I  thought  if  he 
was  a  burglar  I  might  have  to  identify  him  be- 
fore a  lawyer  or  something ;  you  never  can  tell 
what's  going  to  happen.  He  had  light,  curly 
hair  and  a  dark,  yellow  skin,  and  a  queer,  hooked 
nose.  He  unpacked  some  ribbons  and  laces,  look- 
ing around  all  the  time  as  if  he  was  hunting  for 
something.  I  made  up  my  mind  that  he  was  some- 
body that  knew  the  kitchen  girls  and  was  trying 


76  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

to  get  a  glimpse  of  one  of  them.  After  a  while 
he  held  up  a  pale  lavender  sash-ribbon  with  a 
black  edge,  and  said,  '  This  would  be  beautiful 
for  a  young  lady  in  mourning.' 

"  We  were  both  in  blue  dresses,  as  he  could 
see,  and  I  laughed  and  said,  '  I  guess  we  wont 
go  into  mourning  for  the  sake  of  wearing  that.' 

"  Then  he  asked  in  the  most  anxious  way 
if  there  wasn't  any  one  in  mourning  in  the 
school. 

"  '  Not  one,'  said  Edna,  '  except  little  Elfie, 
and  she's  got  more  sashes  than  she  can  wear.' 

"  The  man  looked  at  her  very  sharply — I  never 
saw  a  common  person  show  so  much  curiosity — 
and  said,  '  Perhaps  if  you  could  persuade  the 
young  lady  in  mourning  to  come  and  look  at  my 
things  she  would  find  something  she  liked.  I 
have  beautiful  black  and  silver  bracelets.' 

"  There  was  something  horrid  about  the  man, 
he  seemed  so  familiar  and  so  eager.  I  feel  sure 
he  is  a  burglar  or  something  improper,  and  I 
think  Edna  thinks  so  too,  though  she  wont  own 
it.  I  was  wishing  with  all  my  might  that  we 
could  get  rid  of  him,  and  then  to  my  delight 
the  dinner-bell  rang  and  Johnny  came  run- 
ning back,  and  sent  him  out  and  locked  the 
gate. 


SOME  LEAVES  FROM  A  DIARY.    77 

"  September  30. 

"  I  kept  expecting  burglars  all  last  night,  but 
they  didn't  come. 

"  October  \ . 

"  I  want  to  tell  Mrs.  Abbott  about  the  peddler, 
he  acted  so  queer ;  but  Edna  says  I'm  a  fool  to 
bring  down  a  scolding  and  perhaps  a  punishment 
on  myself  and  her  too. 

"  October  2. 

"  I  don't  believe  I  will  keep  intimate  with  Edna, 
she  seems  to  do  so  many  wrong  kind  of  things. 
I  am  going  to  ask  Miss  Blake  to  let  me  sit  on 
the  other  side  of  the  study-table,  so  I  won't  be 
next  to  her  any  more. 

"  October  3. 

"  Maybe  I  judged  Edna  too  harshly.  She  came 
into  my  room  to-day,  and  after  she'd  looked 
around  a  minute  she  exclaimed,  in  the  most 
earnest  way,  '  O,  you  dear,  lovely  Katie,  if  you 
could  only  know  how  I  love  you  and  how  I  ad- 
mire you  !  '  Then  she  told  me  that  from  the 
very  first  she  had  thought  I  was  the  very  nicest, 
smartest,  and  prettiest  girl  in  the  whole  school. 
It  seems  silly  to  write  down  praises  of  myself, 
but  it  is  perfectly  sweet  to  have  a  girl  think  so 


78  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

much  of  you.  I  have  made  up  my  mind  it  would 
be  unkind  to  change  my  seat  and  leave  Edna ;  so 
I  sha'n't  speak  to  Miss  Blake  about  it. 

"  October  4. 

"  Knew  my  history,  but  missed  in  classic  liter- 
ature. I  never  do  remember  whether  Juno  was 
a  man  or  a  woman." 


A  MEAN  ACT.  79 


CHAPTER    X. 

A  MEAN  ACT. 

FRIDAY  was  composition  day — that  is,  the 
compositions  written  during  the  week  were  then, 
after  being  corrected  by  Miss  Blake,  read  aloud 
in  the  school. 

The  names  of  the  writers  were  not  given,  so 
there  was  no  embarrassment  of  that  kind.  Mrs. 
Abbott  would  simply  take  one  from  the  pile  and 
hand  it  to  one  of  the  girls  to  read  aloud. 

On  the  next  Friday  after  that  rainy  Saturday 
four  had  been  read,  and  Mrs.  Abbott  handed  the 
fifth  to  Ellen  Leigh,  one  of  the  younger  girls, 
who  was  rather  celebrated  for  her  excellent  read- 
ing. She  opened  the  paper,  which  looked  ex- 
actly like  the  others,  and  read  : 

"  EUPHROSYNE,  ONE  OF  THE  GRACES. 

"  O,  never,  dear  girls,  let  us  roam  as  we  will, 

Shall  we  hear  conversation  like  this  ! 
Her  '  gimme  '  and  '  haint  yer '  and  '  tickled  to  kill* 

Are  treats  we'd  be  sorry  to  miss. 

"  And  nothing  so  graceful  our  eyes  ever  saw 
As  the  way  which  she  deals  with  her  knife, 

When  she  grapples  the  handle  in  dainty  red  paw, 
And  piles  in  the  food  for  dear  life." 


8o  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

There  were  evidently  more  verses,  but  Mrs. 
Abbott  interrupted  the  reader,  reaching  out  her 
hand  for  the  paper,  and,  turning  with  surprise  to 
Miss  Blake,  said : 

"  Why  did  you  allow  a  composition  of  this 
character  to  be  presented  for  reading?" 

Miss  Blake,  looking  greatly  puzzled,  declared 
she  had  never  seen  it  before.  She  then  took  the 
pile  in  her  hand  and  counted.  There  were 
twenty-one,  and  twenty  was  the  number  she  had 
corrected. 

Some  of  the  girls  had  laughed  and  shown 
much  amusement  as  the  verses  were  read,  but 
seeing  Mrs.  Abbott  was  really  angry  they  all 
looked  preternaturally  sober  as  she  turned  from 
Miss  Blake  and  slowly  scanned  each  face  before 
her.  There  was  a  painful  silence  which  Elfie 
broke  by  saying  in  a  sorrowful  voice : 

"  Who's  made  poor  Mary  Ann  cry  ?  " 

"  Yes,  who  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Abbott,  emphatic- 
ally. 

"  It  was  that  naughty  song  Ellen  read,"  said 
Elfie.  "  But  Mary  Ann  isn't  going  to  say  '  tickled 
to  kill  '  any  more,  she  isn't." 

Elfie  was  generally  as  particular  as  if  she  had 
been  a  scholar  never  to  speak  in  school  or  move 
about,  but  she  seemed  to  feel  that  this  was  a  case 


A  MEAN  ACT.  81 

that  demanded  her  assistence.  She  crossed 
over  silently  to  where  Mary  Ann  sat  with  her 
face  in  her  hands,  bravely  trying  to  keep  back 
bitter  tears,  and,  throwing  her  arms  around  her, 
whispered  comfort  into  her  ears. 

Mrs.  Abbott,  looking  very  stern,  laid  the  paper 
between  the  leaves  of  her  blank-book  and,  tak- 
ing up  another  composition,  asked  Lily  to  read 
it.  The  girls  all  noticed  that  Lily's  cheeks  were 
painfully  flushed,  and  her  voice  was  so  low  that 
she  had  to  be  asked  twice  to  repeat  a  sentence. 

Mary  Ann,  who  had  succeeded  in  controlling 
her  feelings,  carefully  avoided  looking  at  Lily, 
for  she,  as  well  as  all  of  the  school,  suspected  that 
she  was  the  author  of  the  cruel  verses.  It  was  a 
very  hard  knowledge  to  have,  for  Lily  had  seemed 
to  be  her  friend,  and  there  had  been  times  when 
Mary  Ann  had  gone  to  her  as  a  refuge  and  com- 
forter when  others  had  derided  her.  It  is  a 
bitter  blow  when  you  learn  that  you  have  been 
deceived  in  a  friend.  If  Edna  Tryon,  for  in- 
stance, who  made  no  pretense  of  being  friendly, 
had  written  the  lines,  she  might  have  borne  it ; 
but  Lily !  The  thought  overcame  her,  and  in 
spite  of  every  effort  she  dropped  her  face  upon 
the  desk  to  conceal  the  tears  that  would  not  be 
kept  back.  Miss  Blake  went  to  her  instantly, 


82  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

and,  obeying  a  look  from  Mrs.  Abbott,  led  her 
from  the  room. 

"  Have  you  never  heard,"  asked  Mrs.  Abbott, 
in  the  pause  which  followed,  "  of  a  rough  dia- 
mond, and  do  you  not  know  that  one  in  the 
rough  is  as  pure  a  gem  as  the  one  that  glistens 
on  a  king's  crown  ?  " 

Edna,  sitting  by  Lily,  who  had  resumed  her 
seat,  passed  her  a  bit  of  paper  on  which  she  had 
scribbled,  "  Rough  diamonds  need  cutting.  I 
think  we  had  better  cut  this  one.  I  am  ready 
to  say  I'll  never  speak  to  her  again." 

But  Lily  crumpled  the  paper  up  after  reading 
it,  and  took  no  notice  of  the  smile  and  shrug 
with  which  Edna  emphasized  her  wit ;  but  she 
suddenly  raised  her  hand. 

"  What  is  it,  Miss  Dart  ?  "Basked  Mrs.  Abbott, 
coldly  ;  probably  she  too  felt  a  certainty  that 
Lily  was  the  author,  although  the  verses  were  not 
in  her  hand-writing. 

"  I  want  to  tell  you,"  said  Lily,  struggling 
with  a  great  lump  in  her  throat,  "  that  I  wrote 
that  stuff,  but  I  only  did  it  to  make  two  or  three 
of  the  girls  laugh.  I  wrote  it  when  we  were 
playing  a  game  last  Saturday,  and  I  never  meant 
any  one  to  see  it  except  two  or  three  girls  who 
were  in  the  room  with  me.  I  thought  I  tore  it 


A  MEAN  ACT.  83 

up  when  I  threw  it  in  the  waste-basket.  Per- 
haps some  one  picked  out  the  pieces  and  copied 
the  horrid  stuff.  I  am  awfully  sorry.  I  like 
Mary  Ann  ;  I  really  do,  and  I  wouldn't  have  had 
this  happen  for  the  world.  She  is  a  rough  dia- 
mond ;  she  is,  truly,  and  I  knew  it  all  the  time 
while  I  was  so — so — so — horrid — "  Here  Lily 
broke  down  entirely  and  dropped  into  her  seat. 

"  I  hope  this  will  teach  you  to  hold  in  check 
the  sin  that  doth  so  easily  beset  you,"  said  Mrs. 
Abbott,  gravely.  "  It  is  a  sin  to  trifle  with  other 
people's  feelings  for  the  sake  of  having  a  little 
amusement.  I  think  we  must  all  admire  your 
ready  candor  in  trying  to  atone  in  a  small  degree 
for  your  fault  by  acknowledging  it.  And  I  hope 
your  example  will  be  followed  at  once  by  the 
person  who  copied  your  lines  and  placed  them 
with  the  compositions." 

A  solemn  silence  pervaded  the  room,  and  the 
girls  looked  round  at  each  other  ;  but  the  culprit 
did  not  avail  herself  of  the  opportunity  of  con- 
fession. 

"  I  am  still  waiting,"  said  Mrs.  Abbott,  but  no 
one  spoke.  "  Perhaps,  then,  we  can  find  out  in 
some  other  way.  If  any  one  present  knows  or 
suspects  who  copied  these  verses  I  wish  her  to 
raise  her  hand." 


84  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

No  one  lifted  her  hand. 

"  Some  one  knows,"  said  Mrs.  Abbott,  sternly, 
"  and  I  think  the  one  who  committed  the  offense 
would  feel  better  to  confess  it  ;  but  if  she  is  not 
courageous  enough  to  face  us  all  let  her  come  to 
me  alone  this  evening." 

But  the  offender  preferred  keeping  her  secret, 
and  no  advantage  was  taken  of  Mrs.  Abbott's 
invitation,  and  she  passed  the  twilight  hour  alone, 
pondering  sadly  on  the  troublesome  elements 
that  were  disturbing  her  school. 

Further  reference  was  made  to  the  subject  a 
few  days  later,  when  Mrs.  Abbott  announced 
that  although  she  did  not  know  herself  who  the 
offender  was  she  had  learned  that  Mary  Ann 
saw  one  of  the  scholars  put  a  paper  the  size  and 
shape  of  the  compositions  into  the  pile  before 
school  began  on  Friday  morning. 

"  But  no  persuasions,"  she  continued,  "  will 
make  Mary  Ann  tell  me  who  the  girl  was." 

"  Confessing  my  part  of  that  mean  transac- 
tion," said  Lily,  as  soon  as  the  girls  were  alone 
together,  "  was  no  fun,  and  '  the  party  or  parties 
unknown,'  as  the  papers  I  copy  for  papa  say, 
who  brought  me  to  open  disgrace  have  my  sin- 
cere contempt.  I  never  felt  so  small  in  all  my 
life  as  I  did  when  I  saw  poor  Mary  Ann  all 


A  MEAN  ACT.  85 

broken  up  by  my  wicked  poetry.  I  should  like 
to  have  hired  a  mouse-hole  and  gone  to  house- 
keeping in  it  with  the  front  door  shut  and  never 
been  heard  of  again.  I  think  we  have,  all  of  us 
been  too  dreadful  for  any  thing.  Now,  why 
have  we  treated  her  so  ?  She  is  one  of  the 
smartest,  brightest  girls  in  school ;  she's  as  good 
as  gold,  as  true  as  steel,  and  as  bright  as  silver — 
in  short,  she's  a  rough  diamond." 

"According  to  you  she  belongs  to  the  mineral 
kingdom,"  sneered  Edna ;  "  but  she's  as  com- 
mon as  copper,  if  you'll  allow  there  is  any  base 
metal  about  her." 

"  Copper  isn't  bad  if  you  have  plenty  of  it  in 
the  shape  of  pennies,"  said  Katie,  sagely. 

"I  don't  allow  that  there's  any  base  metal 
about  her,"  said  Lily  ;  "  and  I  don't  see  why  we 
are  all  so  mean  to  her.  Every  one  of  us  has  had 
proofs  enough  of  her  good-nature." 

"That's  so,"  assented  a  number  of  voices  in 
accord. 

"And,  as  far  as  I  can  see,  there's  nothing 
against  her  except  her  back-country  bringing  up 
and  her  funny  way  of  talking.  Why,  dear  me, 
dialect  is  all  the  fashion  in  stories  ;  what  makes 
us  despise  it  so  in  real  life  ?  " 

"  Mary  Ann   is  getting  over  her  dialect  very 


86  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

fast,"  said  Addie  Mason.  "  I  don't  think  she 
talks  very  differently  from  the  rest  of  us  now." 

"  No,  she  does  not,"  said  Lily  ;  "  and  that 
makes  it  all  the  worse  for  me  to  have  written 
that  stuff;  and  she  doesn't  eat  with  her  knife  any 
more,  either." 

"  I  think  the  one  who  put  that  poetry  on  Mrs. 
Abbott's  desk  was  fifty  times  worse  than  you," 
said  Bell  Burgoyne. 

"  So  do  I,"  said  several  who  were  brave  enough 
to  condemn  the  action,  although  it  was  generally 
supposed  to  be  Edna  who  did  it. 

Her  face  grew  very  dark  now. 

"  It's  a  great  row  about  nothing,"  she  said, 
"and  I  don't  think  girls  who  are  born  ladies 
ought  to  be  expected  to  associate  with  such  vul- 
gar folks." 

"  I  say  again  that  Mary  Ann  is  not  vulgar  ; 
and  look  here,  girls,  let's  rechristen  her.  Half 
the  trouble  is  in  that  absurd  name,  Mary  Ann 
Stubbs ;  but  we  can  change  her  first  name  to 
Marion ! " 

The  girls,  who  were  honestly  ashamed  of  the 
passive  or  active  parts  they  had  taken  on  many 
occasions  in  persecuting  poor  Mary  Ann,  received 
the  proposal  with  applause,  and  by  general  con- 
sent the  old  name  was  dropped,  and  soon  both 


A  MEAN  ACT.  87 

teachers  and  scholars  said  "  Marion  "—all  but 
Edna  ;  she  could  not  be  persuaded  to  say  any 
thing  but  Mary  Ann,  and,  as  a  general  thing, 
she  took  the  trouble  to  use  the  last  name  too, 
pronouncing  Stubbs  with  a  scornful  emphasis 
that  was  very  bitter  in  its  wearer's  ears. 


THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 


CHAPTER  XI. 

THE  S.  C.'S. 

THE  average  school-girl  loves  mystery,  and 
when  Edna  Tryon,  who  had  become  so  intimate 
with  the  Friendly  Five  as  almost  to  be  their 
sixth,  proposed  to  teach  them  a  cipher  by 
means  of  which  they  might  communicate  with 
no  possibility  of  any  other  persons  reading  their 
letters  they  were  ecstatic,  and  applied  them- 
selves with  such  zeal  to  practicing  the  new  ac- 
complishment that  soon  notes  of  the  most  enig- 
matical appearance  were  constantly. exchanged 
between  the  initiated. 

It  was  quite  generally  known  that  this  secret 
correspondence  existed,  and  much  envy  was  ex- 
cited by  the  obtrusive  manner  in  which  the 
experts  triumphed  in  their  accomplishment. 

Often  in  the  few  moments  after  a  class  had 
come  and  the  girls  had  taken  their  places  a  most 
innocent-looking  note,  not  even  folded,  would 
pass  through  several  hands  and  its  contents 
glanced  at  by  eyes  whose  greatest  acuteness 
could  see  nothing  but  a  confusion  of  letters ;  but 


THE  S.  C.'s.  89 

after  reaching  one  of  the  initiated  she  would 
express  so  much  surprise  or  disdain  or  pleasure 
or  other  emotion  after  reading  it  by  the  light  of 
her  occult  understanding  of  its  secret  that  the 
other  girls  would  pine  to  know  its  hidden  and 
interesting  meaning  too. 

Some  of  the  girls  tried  to  work  out  the  cipher, 
but  no  one  came  so  near  it  as  Mary  Ann,  who 
was  confessedly  the  most  successful  puzzle-solver 
in  the  school.  She  would  undoubtedly  in  time 
have  found  it  out  alone,  but  she  had  some  as- 
sistance from  Katie,  who,  proud  of  her  accom- 
plishment, once  read  her  a  sentence  of  the  secret 
message  in  a  note  she  had  received  from  Lily, 
and  then  had  thrown  it  down  upon  her  table  ac- 
cording to  the  ostentatious  habit  of  the  league. 

It  may  be  stated  here  that  the  Friendly  Five, 
in  grateful  acknowledgment  of  their  debt  to  Edna 
Tryon,  had  admitted  her  to  full  companionship, 
and  as  the  numerical  name  conflicted  with  the 
fact  of  a  sixth  member  they  had  changed  it  to 
Secret  Cipherers,  using  only  the  initials  S.  C.'s, 
which  mysterious  title  caused  much  guessing 
among  the  outsiders,  who  rather  ill-naturedly 
affected  to  believe  the  letters  stood  for  "  silly 
creatures,"  and  called  the  club  by  that  uncom- 
plimentary title. 


90  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

Mary  Ann  took  the  note  to  her  room,  and  by 
the  aid  of  the  complete  sentence  she  had  heard 
soon  worked  out  the  cipher  to  her  own  satisfac- 
tion, as  she  had  an  early  opportunity  of  prov- 
ing ;  for  the  next  note  that  was  handed  around 
and  then  thrown  conspicuously  down  upon  the 
floor  contained,  according  to  her  key,  a  hidden 
appointment  for  a  candy-pull  in  the  wash-house, 
by  gracious  permission  of  the  laundress. 

A  little  quiet  observation  proved  the  correct- 
ness of  her  reading,  and  Mary  Ann  was  so  tri- 
umphant in  her  discovery  that  she  felt  like  an- 
nouncing it.  But  then,  she  reflected,  it  would 
spoil  their  sport ;  for  they  would  fear  her  telling 
it  to  other  girls.  That,  of  course,  she  wouldn't 
have  done,  but  just  for  a  moment  she  did  have 
a  desire  to  have  Edna  Tryon  know  that  she  had 
become  possessed  of  her  cherished  secret.  Then 
she  recollected  that  others  besides  Edna  would 
be  discomposed,  and  remembering  how  kind  they 
were  to  her  generally — she  had  long  ago  for- 
given Lily's  verses — she  generously  resolved  to 
keep  her  own  counsel,  but  was  not  above  enjoy- 
ing the  idea  that  the  boasted  secret  was  no  se- 
cret to  her. 

Whether  or  not  it  was  right  for  her  thus  to 
read  what  was  not  intended  for  her  eyes  began 


THE  S.  C.'s.  91 

to  trouble  her  after  a  little  ;  so  one  day  when  a 
note  was  thrown  to  her  to  pass  to  Edna,  in  one 
of  the  three-minute  spells  which  they  had  in 
school  at  the  end  of  every  hour,  when  they  were 
allowed  to  talk  softly,  but  not  to  leave  their  seats, 
she  whispered,  after  the  latter  had  thrown  it  on 
the  floor,  "  May  I  read  it,  cipher  and  all  ?  " 

"  Make  all  you  can  out  of  it  and  welcome,'' 
said  Edna,  loftily;  and  after  that  permission 
Mary  Ann's  conscience  was  quieted. 

All  this  time  Mary  Ann's  uncouth  ways  were 
fast  disappearing,  and  her  quick  wit  and  good 
nature  were  fast  winning  friends  for  her,  and 
her  life  at  school  was  growing  pleasanter.  She 
never  forgot  her  promise  to  watch  over  Elfie 
during  Candace's  sick  days,  but  she  kept  the  se- 
cret so  well  that  no  one  observed  that  she  was 
especially  watchful  or  suspected  the  need  there 
was  for  such  precautions. 

As  time  wore  on  the  Bellamy  prize  was  often 
remembered.  The  conditions  and  circumstances 
attending  it  were  fully  understood  by  the  new 
scholars,  who  felt  that  their  chances  were  as 
good  as  any  for  obtaining  it. 

"  There  ought  to  be  no  doubt  about  one  of 
us  S.  C.'s  getting  it,"  said  Edna  Tryon,  one  day, 
in  Lily's  room,  "  if  it  is  managed  fairly." 


92  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  It  will  be  managed  fairly  if  I  know  Mrs.  Ab- 
bott as  well  as  I  think  I  do."  said  Lily  ;  "  but 
why  should  it  fall  to  the  blissful  lot  of  one  of 
our  select  circle  ?  See  there,  that's  a  new  inter- 
pretation of  the  mystic  letters  S.  C." 

"  O,  that's  been  thought  of!  Lottie  Bush 
and  Ellen  Leigh  asked  me  a  month  ago  if  that 
was  what  S.  C.  stood  for." 

"  It's  funny,  isn't  it,"  said  Katie,  "  the  differ- 
ent names  the  other  girls  have  fitted  to  our 
letters?  Something  Curious,  Sewing  Circle, 
Screaming  Crowd,  Sorosis  Children,  Six  Crows, 
Surly  Crew,  Sweet  Creatures,  etc.,  and  not  one 
has  got  it  right  yet." 

"Somebody's  sure  to  hit  it  right  some  day, 
and  then  we'll  have  to  change  it,"  said  Lily. 

"  I  wish  they  wouldn't  find  it  out,"  said  Bell. 
"  It's  awful  fun  having  letters  instead  of  using 
the  name  outright  as  we  did  in  Friendly  Five." 

Edna  took  this  as  a  personal  compliment,  as 
she  was  the  suggester  of  the  new  name,  and 
looked  very  proud  and  self-conscious. 

"  I'm  glad  you  like  it,  girls,"  she  said. 
"  There's  a  good  deal  in  a  name,  and  I'm  never 
at  a  loss  to  think  of  one.  But  to  come  back  to 
the  starting-point.  The  reason  one  of  us  ought 
to  get  the  Bellamy  prize  is  because  there's  no 


THE  S.  C.'s.  93 

one  else  in  the  school  who  is  likely  to  excel  us 
in  any  thing." 

"I'm  not  so  sure  of  that,"  said  Lily.  "We 
don't  know  what  the  prize  is  for.  May  be  it's 
for  patience ;  if  that's  the  case  some  of  the 
smaller  girls  are  just  as  patient  as  we  are — more 
so,  even.  The  same  with  amiability,  or  good 
nature,  or  any  of  the  virtues." 

"  Pshaw  !  That  old  gentleman  wasn't  goody- 
goody  enough  to  set  up  a  prize  for  any  such 
stuff,"  said  Edna.  "  He  knows  this  isn't  a  Sun- 
day-school. No,  it's  for  superiority  in  something, 
I  feel  sure.  May  be  it's  music,  may  be  it's  lan- 
guages, or  some  English  studies.  I  wish  I  had 
been  here  then  and  heard  him  myself." 

"  If  it's  English  studies  Mary  Ann  Stubbs  has 
the  best  chance,"  said  Lily.  "  She's  beyond  the 
whole  of  us." 

"  I  don't  see,"  said  Edna,  discontentedly,  "why 
it  is  that  common,  second-class  folks  are  'most 
always  so  smart  at  books.  May  be  it's  a  sort  of 
compensation  for  being  low-born." 

"  What  is  low-born  ?  "  asked  Lily  in  an  argu- 
mentative sort  of  way. 

"  Why,  don't  you  know  ?  It's  common  people." 

"Well,  no,  I  don't  seem  to  know,  in  spite  of 
your  highly  grammatical  explanation." 


94  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  O,  bother,  how  fussy  you  are  !  What  differ- 
ence does  grammar  make  when  one  is  just  talk- 
ing?" said  Edna,  irritably. 

"  My,  what  a  superior  person  you  are,  to  be 
able  to  soar  above  grammar  that  way,  when  I 
was  so  stupid  as  to  suppose  we  couldn't  talk 
without  it !  But,  to  return  to  our  mutton  pies, 
as  we  say  when  mademoiselle  calls  us  to  the 
French  class,  what  is  low-born  ?  " 

"  I  don't  believe  you  are  one  half  so  stupid  as 
you  pretend  ;  you  know  what  it  is  as  well  as  I 
do." 

"  I  ought  to,"  said  Lily,  thoughtfully ;  "  but 
I  had  an  idea  you  were  referring  to  Marion,  and 
she  is  distinctly  high-born,  as  the  peak  which 
has  the  honor  of  being  her  birthplace  is,  to 
speak  strictly  within  bounds,  at  least  one  trill- 
ion and  fifteen  feet  above  the  level  of  the  very 
tallest  high-water  mark." 

"  I  was  referring  to  Mary  Ann,"  said  Edna, 
angrily,  "  and  she  is  a  low,  common  thing,  and 
you  know  it. in  spite  of  all  the  absurd  nonsense 
you  are  saying  about  it.  Can't  you  see  for  your- 
self that  she  is  just  the  opposite  of  all  the  rest 
of  us?" 

"  Then  you  mean  we  are  high,  uncommon 
things?  I  am  sure  I'm  greatly  obliged  to  you, 


THE  S.  C.'s.  95 

but  somehow  I  don't  feel  charmed  at  being  de- 
scribed that  way." 

The  girls  were  all  laughing,  for  Lily  had  a 
ridiculous,  world-weary  manner  of  uttering  her 
tantalizing  remarks  that  was  extremely  amus- 
ing, and  Edna  was  losing  her  temper  so  fast  that 
there  might  soon  have  been  a  disagreeable 
scene  had  not  a  pleasant  interruption  come  in 
the  form  of  a  basket  of  the  reddest  and  shiniest 
baldwins,  with  "  Mammy  Candace's  best  compli- 
ments, and  would  the  young  ladies  please  accept 
the  apples  with  her  'bligingest  duty?" 

It  was  beginning  to  be  noticed  all  through  the 
school  that  any  special  kindness  or  favor  shown 
to  Elfie  was  always  recognized  by  the  faithful 
black  nurse,  who  invariably  attempted  to  return 
it  in  some  quaint,  humble  way,  and  the  S.  C.'s 
were  quite  accustomed  to  these  touching  thank- 
offerings. 


96  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 


CHAPTER  XII. 

DRESSING     DOLLS. 

EVEN  if  girls  are  as  tall  as  their  mothers  they 
have  a  deep,  if  unconfessed,  interest  in  dolls ;  so 
Mrs.  Abbott's  girls  responded  very  willingly  to 
an  appeal  from  a  mission  school  in  New  York 
for  fifty  dolls'  costumes.  A  toy  merchant  of 
benevolent  disposition  had  presented  the  mission 
with  two  hundred  unclad  dolls,  and  the  dressing 
of  all  but  fifty  were  provided  for.  Mrs.  Abbott 
advised  taking  only  twenty-five,  but  her  scholars 
insisted  on  the  whole  number.  A  very  large 
box  of  silks,  satins,  cashmeres,  and  other  gather- 
ings from  kindly  disposed  milliners  and  dress- 
makers accompanied  the  dolls,  and  the  spare 
room  was  turned  into  a  workshop  and  the 
spare  bed  into  a  depository  for  dolls  in  every 
stage  of  dressing.  As  fast  as  each  one  was  fully 
dressed  it  was  laid  tenderly  away  in  a  bureau 
drawer. 

Miss  Blake  and  Mrs.  Abbott  helped  the  younger 
girls,  who  sewed  the  garments  after  they  were 
cut  out.  But  all  who  had  skill  enough  to  do  it 


DRESSING  DOLLS.  97 

dressed  the  dolls  without  assistance,  and  cos- 
tumed them  very  much  as  they  pleased ;  so 
there  was  a  great  variety.  There  were  German 
peasants,  Roman  and  Breton  peasants,  sailor 
girls  and  boys,  infants  and  fine  ladies,  grand* 
mothers  and  French  nurses,  Scotch  lassies  and 
coal-black  Dinahs.  But  each  doll,  whether  she 
resembled  a  princess  or  peasant,  had  clothes  that 
would  come  off  and  go  on,  and  the  sewing  was 
carefully  done  and  the  button-holes  were  highly 
commendable. 

The  dolls  were  to  be  given  at  Christmas  to 
poor  children  who  might  learn  some  lessons  of 
neatness  and  propriety  from  the  well-made, 
well-adjusted  clothes,  and,  as  Mrs.  Abbott  said, 
"  What  is  worth  doing  at  all  is  worth  doing 
well ;  "  so  there  was  no  slighting,  or  what  Marion 
expressively  called  "  cobbling." 

The  day  scholars  came  afternoons  to  help,  and 
really  the  task  of  dressing  the  fifty  dolls  was 
lighter  than  it  sounds,  and  Mrs.  Abbott  admitted 
that  the  girls  knew  better  than  she  did  when 
they  carried  the  point  of  speaking  for  fifty  in- 
stead of  twenty-five. 

There  was  a  strange  lack  of  ribbons  among 
the  scraps  and  gleanings  that  came  in  the  box 
of  materials,  and  as  it  is  a  well-known  fact  that 


98  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

some  costumes  are  barren  and  incomplete  with- 
out sashes,  shoulder-knots,  and  such  adornments, 
it  seemed  to  the  busy  girls  that  even  the  plain 
est   of  the  dolls  needed   some  finishing  touches 
that  only  ribbons  could  give. 

Delia  Rowland  proposed  taking  up  a  penny 
collection,  as  they  sometimes  did  to  buy  popping 
corn  ;  but  some  mental  calculation  showed  that 
even  if  the  appeal  met  a  favorable  response  in 
every  case  thirty  cents  would  be  the  sum  total 
of  the  collection,  and  that  would  go  only  a 
lamentably  small  way  in  ribbons. 

After  some  discussion  an  improvement  was 
made  on  the  plan,  and  scholars  and  teachers 
were  visited  by  a  committee  of  two,  who  pre- 
sented a  neatly  written  sheet  stating  the  case 
thus  : 

"  Know  all  ladies  and  girls  by  these  presents, 
that  in  this  comfortable  and  well-arranged  house 
fifty  small  but  beauteous  creatures  are  suffering 
for  the  want  of  ribbon.  Many  of  the  sufferers 
have  not  been  seen  to  smile  since  their  destitu- 
tion became  apparent.  Others  are  cold  and 
rigid  in  their  stony  despair. 

"  Sisters,  shall  such  things  be? 

"Give,  sisters,  give  of  your  abundance. 

"  Donations  of  money  in  sums  not  less  than 


DRESSING  DOLLS.  99 

five  and  not  more  than  twenty-five  cents  are 
respectfully  solicited  by  the  committee,  who 
pledge  themselves  to  see  that  the  offerings  are 
not  squandered  for  any  purpose  but  the  one 
mentioned. 

"  N.  B. — A  small  tin  bank  will  be  placed  upon 
the  hall  table,  and  people  who  wish  to  give  more 
than  the  largest  sum  mentioned  above  are  at 
liberty  to  drop  coin  in. 

"N.  B. — Buttons  or  broken  sleeve-links  dropped 
in  the  bank  will  be  traced  to  their  source  by 
experienced  experts,  and  humiliation  will  follow." 

This  high-sounding  document  proved  very  ef- 
ficacious, and  Bell  Burgoyne  and  Fannie  Holmes, 
the  anonymous  committee,  found  themselves  in 
possession  of  five  dollars  from  the  collection 
and  two  dollars  which  were  revealed  by  the 
opening  of  the  little  tin  bank. 

That  was  an  unnecessarily  large  sum  to  spend 
for  ribbon,  Miss  Blake  said,  and  proposed  that 
the  boxing  and  expressing  back  of  the  dressed 
dolls  should  be  paid  out  of  it,  and  if  any  were 
still  left  after  the  purchases  were  judiciously 
made  it  should  be  deposited  in  the  tin  bank  as 
a  nest-egg,  not  for  a  rainy  day,  but  for  a  day 
when  Mrs.  Abbott's  brother  should  come,  as  he 
had  promised  to  make  her  a  visit,  and  tell  them 


ioo  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

stories  that  would,  as  Lily  had  said  once,  wring 
their  hearts,  and  their  purses,  too,  and  make  them 
long  to  give  even  a  trifle  of  help  to  the  unhappy 
creatures  he  told  them  of,  whose  only  crime  was 
their  being  girls. 

For  Mr.  Eaton  was  a  returned  missionary, 
laid  aside  from  his  work,  long  before  years  or 
failing  health  had  enfeebled  him,  by  an  accident 
which  had  nearly  destroyed  his  sight.  He  was 
intending  to  spend  the  Christmas  holidays  with 
his  sister,  and  the  girls,  who  remembered  his 
visit  of  last  year  with  pleasure,  were  glad  to 
know  that  they  should  find  him  at  school 
when  they  returned  from  their  two-weeks'  va- 
cation. 

Edna  shrugged  her  shoulders  when  she  heard 
the  others  rejoicing  at  the  prospect  of  having 
this  minister  in  the  house. 

"You're  a  queer  lot,  here,"  she  said.  "  Now, 
at  Madame  de  Lanay's  all  the  girls  thought 
ministers  were  horrid,  stiff,  solemn  things,  look- 
ing shocked  if  any  one  laughed  and  all  the  time 
poking  texts  at  people.  Goodness !  It  makes 
me  low-spirited  just  to  think  of  being  in  the 
house  with  one  of  the  walking  funerals." 

"  Walking  funerals  ! "  and  Delia  Rowland 
burst  into  shrieks  of  laughter.  "  Why,  Edna, 


DRESSING  DOLLS.  101 

my  father's  a  minister,  and  he  is  the  liveliest, 
jolliest  man  I  ever  saw." 

"Well,  I'm  sure  I  beg  your  pardon,  Del,  for 
not  remembering  there  was  a  minister's  daughter 
present,  and  I'm  sure  it's  very  nice  in  you  to 
think  so  much  of  your  father." 

"  Yes,  its  very  obliging  of  her,"  said  Lily, 
dryly  ;  "but  Delia's  father,  nice  as  he  is,  is  not 
the  only  cheerful  minister.  You  will  have  to 
change  your  mind,  if  you  think  they  are  all  a 
mournful  lot,  when  you  see  Mr.  Eaton.  He  has 
had  sorrow  upon  sorrow,  Mrs.  Abbott  says,  and 
yet  he  is  so  cheerful  that  he  brightens  up  the 
whole  house." 


102  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 

THE   COMMITTEE    BUY    RIBBONS   AND    MAKE   AN 
ACQUAINTANCE. 

Miss  BLAKE  and  the  committee  went  up  to 
the  village  milliner's  the  next  afternoon  to  select 
the  ribbons  which  were  to  give  the  last  touch  of 
elegance  to  the  dolls'  toilets. 

It  was  a  grave  responsibility,  for  some  of  the 
dolls'  dress-makers  had  very  positive  ideas  about 
the  shade,  quality,  and  width  needed  for  certain 
costumes,  and  as  Miss  Smith's  stock  was  exceed- 
ingly limited  the  purchasers  would  in  most  in- 
stances have  to  use  their  own  judgment  about 
choosing  the  next  best  things. 

Miss  Blake  was  very  patient  and  good-natured 
and  gave  all  the  advice  she  could,  but  the  girls 
deliberated  so  long  over  some  of  the  least  satis- 
factory things  that  after  a  while  she  excused  her- 
self, as  she  had  a  sick  friend  to  visit,  and  prom- 
ised to  call  for  them  in  half  an  hour. 

The  important  decisions  were  made  before  it 
was  time  to  expect  her,  and  Delia  proposed  go- 
ing over  to  Mr.  Williams's  store,  a  place  where 


THE  COMMITTEE  BUY  RIBBONS.       103 

every  thing  under  the  sun  to  eat,  drink,  or  wear, 
or  to  work  with  might  be  asked  for  with  a  reason- 
able hope  of  rinding  it.  It  \vas  the  only  place  in 
the  village,  except  the  station  restaurant,  where 
candy  could  be  bought,  and  it  was  very  disap- 
pointing to  the  girls  to-day  to  be  told,  when  they 
applied  to  the  man  who  waited  on  that  depart- 
ment, that  there  had  been  some  delay  in  receiv- 
ing their  usual  weekly  supply  and  there  was  noth- 
ing in  stock  except  some  deplorable  specimens 
which  would  not  tempt  any  one. 

It  was  very  provoking,  for  a  number  of  the 
girls  had  commissioned  them  to  buy  candy  and 
would  be  very  much  disturbed  at  not  receiving 
it.  The  same  thought  was  in  the  mind  of  each, 
but  neither  liked  to  express  it,  but  the  thought 
moved  their  footsteps  in  the  same  direction  ;  and, 
leaving  Mr.  Williams's,  they  slowly  sauntered 
toward  the  station  and  presently  found  them- 
selves at  the  door  of  the  little  waiting-room,  one 
end  of  which  was  crossed  by  a  counter  where 
hurried  travelers  could  regale  themselves  with 
coffee  and  sandwiches  at  one  end,  or  fill  their 
pockets  with  cakes  and  candy  at  the  other. 

The  girls  looked  at  each  other  as  they  stopped 
at  the  open  door.  Mrs.  Abbott  had  never  actu- 
ally said  no  one  should  go  into  thf.  station  unless 


104  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

accompanied  by  a  teacher,  because  she  never 
supposed  any  one  would  want  to  go  there,  but 
she  was  very  particular,  and  they  knew  well  she 
would  disapprove  of  their  going  in. 

"Well?  "said  Bell,  wrinkling  her  brows  and 
looking  steadily  at  her  companion. 

"  There  isn't  a  soul  in  there  now  except  the 
girls  behind  the  counter,"  said  Fannie. 

"  I  don't  suppose  we  really  ought  to  go  in," 
said  Bell,  putting  her  foot  on  the  first  of  the  four 
steps. 

"No,"  said  Fannie,  stepping  up  to  her  side; 
"  but  after  all  what  harm  can  there  be?  " 

"  And  the  girls  will  be  so  awfully  put  out 
about  not  getting  the  candy,"  said  Bell,  going 
one  step  higher. 

"Come  along  in,"  said  Fannie,  with  sudden 
decision,  grasping  Bell's  hand  and  drawing  her  in 
the  door.  "  It's  all  right.  Nobody  need  ever 
know  we  came  here  if  we  don't  choose  to  tell." 

Their  easily  quieted  scruples  \vere  all  forgotten 
when  they  saw  the  enticing  supply  of  confection- 
ery seductively  displayed  under  glass  covers. 
There  was  no  such  trouble  in  selecting  here  as 
there  had  been  in  buying  ribbons,  for  there  were 
chocolate  creams,  maple  caramels,  and  candied 
cherries  among  the  extensive  variety,  and  those 


THE  COMMITTEE  BUY  RIBBONS.       105 

were  the  things  that  all  the  girls  longed  for  more 
than  any  other  sweets. 

It  was  delightful  to  feel  that  they  were  prepar 
ing  a  pleasant  surprise  for  their  friends,  who 
never  dreamed  of  having  any  thing  more  luscious 
than  the  lemon  sticks,  peppermint  balls,  and 
"  sat-upon  "  cocoanut  cakes  of  a  pallid  white  or 
dangerous  red  which  Mr.  Williams,  true  to  the 
traditions  of  his  far-away  childhood,  considered 
the  proper  stock  of  confectionery. 

The  saleswoman  was  a  little  indifferent  and 
slow,  and  so  engrossed  with  a  conversation  of 
deep  interest  she  was  maintaining  with  the  other 
clerk  that  it  was  hard  to  get  her  attention  ;  and 
then  she  lingered  so  over  tying  up  the  packages 
that  the  girls  grew  very  impatient,  for  a  sharp 
whistle  told  them  that  a  train  was  coming.  The 
young  woman  tried  to  hurry  then,  but  she  had 
tied  up  the  creams  in  too  thin  paper,  and  they 
burst  their  bonds  and  flew  over  the  counter  and 
floor.  She  seemed  ashamed  of  her  awkwardness 
then,  and  weighed  out  another  half-pound  and 
put  them  into  a  paper  bag  of  firmer  constitution, 
delivering  them  over  to  the  girls  just  as  the  train 
stopped  and  quite  a  little  crowd  of  passengers 
rushed  up  to  the  lunch-counter.  In  the  hurry  of 
serving  coffee  and  glasses  of  milk  which  were 


106  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

wanted  instantly,  the  woman  could  not  stop  to 
make  change  for  the  girls.  Bell  had  handed  her 
a  two-dollar  bill,  from  which  she  was  to  deduct 
eighty-five  cents  for  the  candy.  Clearly  it  would 
not  do  to  give  up  one  dollar  and  fifteen  cents, 
particularly  as  the  money  was  not  their  own,  so 
there  was  nothing  else  to  do  but  to  keep  their 
places  and  wait  till  the  greedy  travelers  could 
spare  the  clerk  long  enough  to  get  their  change. 
They  deplored  their  folly  then  in  having  given 
Miss  Smith  all  their  silver  and  small  change  and 
left  themselves  with  only  the  bill ;  but  it  was  too 
late  to  mourn  for  that  now,  and  they  stood  im- 
patiently at  the  end  of  the  counter,  wondering 
how  even  the  fear  of  being  left  behind  by  the 
train  could  give  men  the  courage  to  pour  boiling 
hot  coffee  down  their  throats. 

At  last  a  lull  came,  the  clamorous  travelers 
were  supplied,  and  the  girls'  change  was  handed 
them  and  they  hurried  off  toward  the  milli- 
ner's, greatly  fearing  that  Miss  Blake  wou'd  have 
come  back  and  would  demand  an  explana- 
tion. They  passed  a  showily  dressed  young  man 
with  a  traveling-bag,  who  did  not  look  quite  like 
a  gentleman,  but  were  so  occupied  with  their 
own  uneasiness  that  they  did  not  notice  that  he 
quickened  his  tardy  steps  soon  after  they  passed 


THE  COMMITTEE  BUY  RIBBONS.       107 

him,  till,  with  a  very  low  bow,  he  stopped  them, 
just  before  the  road  turned  to  go  up  the  hill,  and 
asked  if  they  would  kindly  direct  him  to  the  vil- 
lage. 

"  Why,  you  can't  miss  it,"  said  Fanny,  rather 
startled  at  being  addressed  by  a  stranger;  "  there's 
just  this  one  road  and  no  other." 

"  If  the  ladies  are  going  to  the  town  and  do 
not  object  I  will  walk  with  them  so  I  can  be 
sure  of  going  right,"  said  the  man. 

The  girls  were  uncomfortable,  but  did  not 
know  what  they  ought  to  do  ;  so  they  walked  on 
without  speaking. 

"Very  pretty  little  town,  Coventry,"  said  the 
man,  with  a  smile  and  bow  that  he  evidently 
meant  to  be  very  engaging.  "  Is  there  a  nice 
hotel  here  ?  " 

"  There  isn't  any  at  all  now ;  if  any  one  spends 
a  night  they  have  to  stop  at  the  big  tavern  by 
the  station,"  said  Fannie,  with  a  wild  hope  that 
he  would  retrace  his  steps  and  seek  the  big  tav- 
ern's shelter. 

But  he  still  accommodated  his  steps  to  theirs, 
and  presently  asked  if  they  were  residents  of 
Coventry. 

"  Our  parents  don't  live  here,  but  we  are  board- 
ing scholars  at  Mrs.  Abbott's  school,"  said  Bell, 


io8  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

haughtily,  thinking  that  the  mention  of  Mrs. 
Abbott's  name  might  prove  discouraging. 

"  You  walk  very  fast,  young  ladies,"  said 
their  companion  affably.  "  Mrs.  Abbott  is  a 
very  particular  friend  of  mine,  and  I  am  going 
over  to  see  her  about  taking  my  sister  into  the 
school." 

"  There  is  no  room  for  another  scholar,"  said 
Fannie;  "  the  school  is  as  full  as  can  be." 

"  O,  Mrs.  Abbott  will  do  any  thing  to  oblige 
me,"  said  he,  confidently.  "  I  can  talk  her  over. 
How  young  does  she  take  pupils?  My  little  sis- 
ter would  not  be  happy  unless  there  were  some 
other  very  small  girls  there  besides  herself." 

"  There  are  none  very  small,"  said  Fannie. 

"  Except  Elfie,"  corrected  Bell. 

"Why,  Bell,  you  can  hardly  call  Elfie  a  scholar, 
and  you  know  she  was  only  taken  out  of  regard 
for  Mr.  Bellamy.  No  one  else  so  young  would 
be  admitted." 

"  It  would  be  very  sad  for  me  if  my  poor  little 
orphaned  sister  were  refused,"  said  the  man,  who 
had  been  listening  eagerly ;  "  but  please,  young 
ladies,  say  nothing  about  it  to  Mrs.  Abbott ;  I 
prefer  to  open  the  matter  myself  when  I  call  on 
her  this  evening." 

He  touched  his  hat  very  politely  then  and 


THE  COMMITTEE  BUY  RIBBONS.        109 

turned  back,  murmuring  something  about  secur- 
ing a  room  at  the  tavern. 

"  Wasn't  he  horrid  !"  exclaimed  Fannie,  almost 
before  he  was  beyond  hearing  her  words. 

"  Horrid  !  "  agreed  Bell,  giving  a  great  sigh  of 
relief  as  she  looked  into  the  milliner's  window 
and  saw  that  the  shop  was  empty.  But  they 
had  hardly  seated  themselves  on  two  tall  stools 
in  front  of  the  counter  before  Miss  Blake  came 
in  full  of  apologies  for  staying  twice  as  long  as 

she  intended. 
8 


i  io  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

THE  ADVENTURE  DISCUSSED. 

THE  ribbons  were  criticised,  approved,  or  con- 
demned, according  to  the  various  tastes  of  the 
girls.  Those  who  were  familiar  with  the  difficul- 
ties attending  country  shopping  were  disposed  to 
be  satisfied,  and  thought  the  committee  had 
done  as  well  as  they  could  have  done  themselves, 
which  is  as  high  praise  as  can  be  expected  from 
any  body. 

But  the  candy  purchases  gave  unmixed  de- 
light to  those  who  had  sent  for  it,  and  ecstatic 
little  screams  of  glee  hailed  the  opening  of  the 
packages.  The  second  class — that  is,  the  little 
girls — had  gone  up  to  Miss  Blake's  room  for  the 
regular  twilight  twenty  minutes  of  poetry  that 
they  had  three  times  a  week,  and  the  first-room 
girls  all  adjourned  to  the  spare  room  to  embel- 
lish the  dolls  with  the  newly  acquired  ribbons. 
It  was  then  that  the  candy  was  produced  and 
generously  distributed  by  its  owners. 

"  Now  tell  us  all  about  the  excursion,"  said 
Katie,  with  her  mouth  full  of  caramels  and  her 


THE  ADVENTURE  DISCUSSED.         in 

hands  busy  with  a  blue  ribbon.  "  Of  course 
Miss  Smith  was  perishing  to  know  what  you 
wanted  of  so  many  shades  of  ribbon,  wasn't 
she?" 

"  Yes,"  said  Bell ;  "  but  she's  a  dear  old  soul, 
and  when  we  told  her  about  the  dolls  she  offered 
to  make  a  dozen  straw  hats  for  them,  and  she's 
going  to  send  them  up  to-morrow." 

"  Hurrah  for  Miss  Smith  !  "  exclaimed  Lily  , 
"  and  what  a  splendid  idea !  We  never  though'', 
of  head-covering.  Let's  go  to  work  and  make 
little  cloth  tennis  caps  and  Greek  caps  for  a  lot 
of  the  bare-headed  young  persons.  They're 
easy  to  make,  and  I  know  how  to  cut  them  out." 

That  suggestion  was  well  received,  and  the 
work  was  immediately  begun  ;  but  Lily  was 
not  too  much  absorbed  in  cutting  out  the 
caps  to  ask  for  more  particulars  from  Bell  and 
Fannie. 

"Yes;  whom  did  you  see?"  said  Katie,  re- 
membering her  own  disappointment  at  not  being 
elected  one  of  the  shoppers. 

"We  saw  Miss  Smith,"  said  Fannie,  teasingly. 

"  Well,  I  should  say  you  did,  by  the  pile  of 
ribbons  you  bought.  It  was  real  good  in  her  to 
give  so  much  for  the  money ;  but  who  else  did 
you  see  ?  " 


ii2  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"A  young  and  blooming  stranger,"  said  Fan- 
nie. 

"  Gracious  !  Was  she  a  friend  of  Miss  Smith  ?  " 

"Not  she,  but  he." 

"  For  pity's  sake,  a  man,  a  young  man  ?  Why, 
\vhat  do  you  expect  Mrs.  Abbott  to  say  to  you 
hapless  girls  if  you  have  been  meeting  a  young 
man  ?  " 

"We  couldn't  help  meeting  him,"  said  Fan- 
nie. 

"But  we  didn't  meet  him  at  all,  Fannie,"  said 
Bell ;  "  he  overtook  us  and  spoke  before  he  got 
up  to  us  ;  that  was  after  we  passed  him,  you 
know." 

"  You  seem  slightly  incoherent,"  said  Edna. 
"  He  passed  you  and  you  passed  him.  And 
where  was  Miss  Blake  all  this  time  ?  She  is  not 
much  of  a  '  dragon  '  if  she  lets  strange  young 
men  speak  to  the  girls  in  the  street.  My,  wouldn't 
madame  have  made  short  work  of  that  kind  of  a 
teacher." 

"  Miss  Blake  is  all  right,"  said  Bell,  stolidly, 
unwilling  to  explain  the  situation. 

Lily  laid  down  her  scissors  and  looked  the 
committee  over  sharply.  "  Girls,"  she  said,  "  you 
are  keeping  back  something  interesting.  Now, 
make  a  clean  breast  of  it  and  tell  us  the  whole 


THE  ADVENTURE  DISCUSSED.         113 

story  right  away.  Confess  no\v,  unless  you  want 
to  be  handed  over  for  torture." 

Then  Fannie,  acting  as  spokesman,  told  their 
adventure  fully.  Their  hearers  were  much 
amazed  that  the  two  steadiest  girls  in  the  school 
should  have  been  so  daring  as  to  go  deliberately 
to  the  station  at  the  risk  of  seriously  displeasing 
Mrs.  Abbott. 

"  It  reminds  me,"  said  Lily,  pensively,  "  of  a 
solemn  old  horse  my  grandfather  had  who  was 
steady  as  a  turtle  all  through  his  colthood  and 
slow  middle  age,  but  when  he  was  at  the  over- 
ripe age  of  twenty-two  he  ran  away  for  the  first 
time  and  spilt  my  grandmother  out  of  the  buggy 
in  her  best  bonnet.  Four  steady,  obedient  years 
you  two  studious  scholars  have  led  sober  lives 
beneath  this  scholastic  roof,  and  now  you  dis- 
grace yourselves  and  break  your  record.  Ah,  it  is 
a  weepful  fact  that  you  can't  'most  always  tell 
what  serious  nags  and  solemn  girls  can  do  in  the 
way  of  giddiness!  " 

"Tell  us  something  about  the  fellow,"  said 
Edna;  "  what  did  he  look  like?  Dark,  melting 
eyes,  rich  voice,  smooth  olive  skin,  etc.,  eh  ?  " 

"  Olive  skin,  to  be  sure,  and  eyes  that  looked 
as  if  they  had  been  boiled  till  they  were  half 
melted,"  answered  Fannie.  "  He  was  horrid." 


ii4  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  I  didn't  think  he  was  so  bad-looking,"  said 
Bell ;  "  his  features  were  not  out  of  the  way ;  the 
worst  thing  about  him  was  his  looking  so  vul- 
gar and  flashy.  It  seems  queer  that  such  a 
person  should  be  a  particular  friend  of  Mrs. 
Abbott's."  . 

"  O,  people  have  queer  friends,  sometimes," 
said  Edna,  "but  I  don't  believe  she'll  take  his 
sister." 

"  I  hope  we  shall  know  when  he  comes  to  see 
Mrs.  Abbott,  so  we  can  try  to  get  a  look  at  him," 
said  Katie.  "  Should  you  know  him  again,  girls?  " 

"  I  should  say  so  ;  we  are  not  likely  to  forget 
that  big  plaid  suit  or  that  high  hooked  nose." 
.  "  O,  he  had  a  high  hooked  nose,  had  he  ?  "  said 
Edna.  "  Perhaps  your  friend  is  some  relation  to 
that  inquisitive  peddler  who  wanted  to  find*  out 
if  any  one  in  the  school  wore  mourning.  He 
had  that  kind  of  a  nose." 

Marion  had  not  joined  in  the  conversation,  but 
while  she  looped  some  white  baby-ribbon  into  a 
small  rosette  she  listened  attentively  to  the  girls' 
account  of  their  adventure.  Now  she  asked  tim- 
idly if  it  would  not  be  better  to  tell  Mrs.  Abbott 
about  the  man. 

"  And  why  should  we  walk  ourselves  right 
straight  into  hot  water?"  said  Fannie,  petu- 


THE  ADVENTURE  DISCUSSED.         115 

lantly.  "  I  know  we  did  wrong  in  going  to  the 
station,  but  it  was  no  crime.  We  never  have 
been  forbidden." 

"  I  am  the  most  worried  for  fear  the  young 
man  will  mention  seeing- us  there  when  he  comes 
to  see  her,"  said  Bell. 

"  Don't  you  worry,"  said  Lily ;  "  that  dark- 
eyed  youth  will  never  come.  He's  a  gay  de- 
ceiver. Imagine  a  fellow  like  that  being  a  friend 
of  Mrs.  Abbott's." 

"  Why  in  the  world  should  he  say  so,  then  ?" 

"  Perhaps  he  saw  from  your  lamb-like  coun- 
tenance that  you  were  innocent  enough  to  an- 
swer his  questions.  He  may  have  some  reason 
for  finding  out  something  about  this  establish- 
ment. As  Edna  said  about  her  peddler,  perhaps 
he's  an  enterprising  burglar  on  the  lookout  for 
points." 

"  Well,  anyway,  we  didn't  tell  him  any  thing." 

"  But  you  said  you  told  him  Elfie  was  here," 
said  Marion,  looking  troubled,  "  and  I  do  really 
think  it  would  be  best  to  tell  Mrs.  Abbott." 

"  Ridiculous  !  "  sneered  Edna  ;  "  I  dont  think 
so." 

"  It  wasn't  good  taste  at  all  in  the  girls  to 
mention  any  name  to  a  strange  creature  like 
that,"  said  Lily ;  "  but  I  don't  suppose  he  will 


u6  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

ever  think  of  it  again.  What  I  think  was  the 
worst  thing  was  going  off  to  the  station,  and  if 
it  were  I,  I  should  tell  Mrs.  Abbott  what  I  did; 
I  always  feel  better  after  I  have  '  confessed,' 
though  I  own  it's  pretty  hard  work." 

But  Bell  and  Fannie  either  lacked  moral 
courage  or  were  not  in  the  mood  to  take  her 
very  excellent  advice. 


THE  WHITE  QUEEN.  117 


CHAPTER   XV. 

THE    WHITE    QUEEN. 

ONE  of  the  old-fashioned  snow-storms  came 
two  weeks  before  the  Christmas  holidays  scat- 
tered the  girls  far  and  wide  to  spend  the  happy 
fortnight  at  home.  It  was  not  a  quiet,  decorous 
downfall  of  snow  that  covered  the  earth  smoothly 
with  a  glaze  of  white,  but  a  roystering,  turbulent 
storm  that  piled  drifts  to  marvelous  heights  in 
sheltered  corners  and  reared  miniature  Alpine 
ranges  against  the  almost  submerged  fences. 
The  road  was  quite  impassable  early  in  the 
day,  and  not  one  of  the  day-scholars  could  get 
to  school.  This  had  happened  once  during 
the  previous  winter,  and  on  that  occasion  the 
usual  lessons  were  given  up  and  the  time  filled 
with  some  unusual  exercises.  This  time  Mrs. 
Abbott  put  it  to  vote  after  opening  school,  and 
every  hand  was  raised  in  favor  of  having  a 
literary  morning  in  place  of  the  ordinary  recita- 
tions. The  teachers  were  pleased  to  have  it 
so ;  for  it  was  hard  on  the  absent  scholars  to 
miss  all  the  studies  of  a  day. 


n8  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

Miss  Blake,  whose  talent  as  an  elocutionist 
was  extraordinary,  recited  a  stirring  historical 
poem,  which  was  rapturously  received.  Then 
Mrs.  Abbott  asked"  each  girl  to  write  the  name 
of  her  favorite  heroine  of  history  on  a  slip  of 
paper,  to  drop  into  a  box  that  was  carried 
around  by  one  of  the  girls. 

An  examination  of  the  slips  showed  that  al- 
though a  number  of  names  had  been  put  down 
two  names  were  repeated  on  several  papers. 
These  were  Joan  of  Arc  and  Marie  Antoinette. 
Then  the  girls  were  asked  to  vote  again  on  both 
those  names.  The  result  was  that  the  unfort- 
unate queen  was  selected,  and  Miss  Blake,  who 
always  heard  the  history  classes,  read  them  a  short, 
pathetic  sketch  of  her  life,  with  its  early  frivolity 
and  pitiful,  brave  ending.  Then  she  asked  the 
girls  to  each  write  a  short  statement  of  the  ac- 
count she  had  read.  Not  less  than  three  lines, 
not  more  than  fifteen,  was  the  limit,  and  pencils 
were  very  busy  for  a  short  time.  Then  the 
papers,  which  were  not  signed,  were  gathered  up 
and  read  aloud. 

The  girls  enjoyed  the  reading  of  the  papers 
very  much ;  for  not  even  the  teachers  knew  who 
wrote  them  ;  so  there  was  no  shame  felt  if  com- 
ment or  criticism  were  made,  and  a  girl  had  only 


THE  WHITE  QUEEN.  119 

to  control  her  face  and  look  unconscious  and  no 
©n-e  would  suspect  her.  Of  course,  some  papers 
were  very  meager,  but  others  were  quite  inter- 
esting outline  sketches.  It  almost  seemed  like 
a  game,  but  it  fixed  the  facts  very  firmly  in  every 
girl's  mind,  and  Mrs.  Abbott  half  made  up  her 
mind  to  introduce  the  plan  as  a  regular  weekly 
exercise. 

^he  sun  was  shining  brilliantly  on  the  glisten- 
ing snow,  and  when  they  had  finished  dinner 
Mrs.  Abbott  told  them  to  prepare  for  a  snow 
frolic  in  the  inclosure,  saying  she  had  ordered 
their  snow-shovels  and  rubber  boots  brought  to 
the  back  piazza  in  readiness  for  them. 

Edward  had  shoveled  paths  to  the  back  and 
front  gate,  and,  seeing  the  wall  of  ice  and  snow 
through  which  he  had  cut,  Bell  exclaimed, 
"Who's  for  building  a  snow-fort  ?  " 

Most  of  them  hailed  the  idea  jubilantly,  but 
Delia  and  Katie  had  just  been  reading  Haw- 
thorne's lovely  "  Snow  Image,"  and  suggested 
molding  a  beautiful  white  child. 

"  Perfectly  sweet !  "  said  Lily.  "  How  nice  in 
you  to  think  of  it!  Where  shall  we  build  her?" 

"I  should  think  she  ought  to  be  standing  in 
the  grove  ;  she  will  look  shadowy  and  fairy-like 
under  the  trees  with  evergreens  behind  her." 


120  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  This  is  nice  kind  of  snow,  it  packs  well," 
said  Lida  Evertson  ;  "  but  how  can  we  make  a 
girl?" 

"Easy  enough,"  said  Katie.  "We  made 
General  Washington  once,  and  put  a  paper 
cocked  hat  on  him.  He  was  fine,  only  we  got 
his  feet  longer  than  his  legs." 

"  Let's  get  the  book  and  see  how  a  snow-girl 
ought  to  look,"  suggested  Lily. 

A  look  at  the  graceful,  humanized  snow 
image  showed  the  manifest  impossibility  of 
imitating  it  successfully. 

"  But  even  if  we  cannot  make  a  willowy  fairy 
like  that,"  said  Lily,  "  we  can  make  something. 
If  a  woman  made  a  charming  face  in  butter — • 
lolanthe,  she  called  it,  didn't  she? — I  think  we 
ought  to  be  able  to  work  up  something  nice  in 
snow." 

"Suppose  we  drag  one  of  the  rustic  chairs 
under  a  tree  and  make  a  sitting-down  figure  of 
a  girl,"  said  Marion,  who  was  rosy  and  happy 
in  the  out-door  sport  which  reminded  her  of 
home. 

"  Capital !  the  chair  will  help  to  hold  her  up. 
Let's  have  her  a  queen  and  fix  up  an  ice  crown," 
said  Katie. 

Edna,  who  systematically  sneered  at  whatever 


THE  WHITE  QUEEN.  121 

proposal  Marion  made,  laughed  at  the  idea,  but 
no  one  seemed  to  notice  her  disapproval,  and 
soon  she,  too,  grew  interested  and  helped. 

They  had  to  get  Edward's  help  to  dig  the 
chair  out  of  the  snow  that  quite  buried  it,  and 
set  it  against  a  large-trunked  maple.  Then  they 
worked  with  a  will,  till  they  had  made  a  very 
fair  semblance  of  a  large  woman  sitting  down, 
with  her  skirts  spread  out  and  her  arms  resting 
on  the  arms  of  the  chair. 

"  Whoever  best  understands  the  mysterious 
science  of  noses  shall  put  that  important  feat- 
ure on  Queen  Blanche's  pale  face,"  said  Lily, 
whose  own  face,  from  exertion,  was  red  as  a 
peony. 

"  I  think,  as  Edna  draws  best  of  any  of  us, 
and  molds  such  pretty  things  in  clay,  she  had 
better  give  the  White  Queen  a  nose,"  said 
Marion,  timidly ;  and  for  once,  so  soothing  is 
flattery,  Edna  was  pleased,  and  smiled  quite 
graciously  upon  her,  and  succeeded,  after  several 
efforts,  in  turning  out  a  very  good  nose.  She 
changed  the  expression  of  the  whole  face,  too, 
by  some  deft  smoothing  and  judicious  molding, 
and  no  one  present  had  ever  seen  a  snow-form 
that  was  half  so  pretty  as  this  when  it  was  fin- 
ished. 


i22  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  Make  her  majesty  a  crown  of  stiff  writing- 
paper  and  scatter  water  on  it,"  said  Lily. 

"  O,  yes  ;  and  let's  borrow  an  old  sheet  if 
we  can,  and  pin  it  around  her  neck  like  a 
royal  robe,  and  then  make  it  sopping  wet  and 
sprinkle  snow  on  it,"  said  Marion.  "  It  will 
freeze  stiff  in  the  night  and  look  as  if  it  was 
made  of  snow." 

Both  suggestions  were  eagerly  carried  out, 
and  then  Mrs.  Abbott  was  called  to  the  window 
to  see  the  really  majestic  statue  of  snow.  She 
expressed  great  admiration,  and  Elfie,  who  was 
bundled  up  to  the  tip  of  her  little  red  nose, 
pranced  around  in  wild  delight,  believing  her- 
self to  have  been  an  important  assistant  in  mak- 
ing the  image. 

The  next  morning  at  recess  the  girls  all  ran 
out  to  visit  the  White  Queen,  whose  beauty  had 
so  much  improved  by  time  and  frost  that  she 
really  was  marvelous.  The  sun  was  shining  very 
clearly,  but  the  weather  was  bitingly  cold,  and 
there  was  every  prospect  that  the  statue  would 
retain  its  fair  form  for  some  time.  The  robe  and 
crown,  now  frozen  stiff,  looked  as  if  they  too 
were  made  entirely  of  snow. 

"I  wish  somebody  besides  us  could  see  it," 
said  Katie,  and  hardly  was  her  wish  expressed 


THE  WHITE  QUEEN.  123 

before  it  was  gratified.  A  small  sound  of  ad- 
miration startled  them,  and,  quickly  turning  to 
look  in  the  direction  of  the  gentle  ejaculation, 
they  saw  a  man's  head  above  the  high  board 
fence.  The  drifts,  now  hardened  by  the  frost, 
had  allowed  him  to  walk  on  them  comfortably, 
and  instead  of  being  far  below  the  top  of  the 
fence  he  was  now  head  and  shoulders  above  it. 
He  made  no  effort  to  raise  himself  upon  it,  as 
the  girls  thought  for  a  moment  he  might  do. 
He  had  perhaps  seen  it  without  its  frill  of  snow, 
and  was  aware  of  its  decoration  of  spikes. 

"  A  most  beautiful  image,  young  ladies,"  he 
said,  in  a  very  soft  voice,  with  a  beaming  smile 
and  pushing  forward  of  his  head  that  seemed 
intended  to  be  very  winning. 

None  of  the  startled  girls  replied ;  so  he  made 
another  admiring  remark. 

Bell,  who  was  half  behind  Lily,  was  examining 
the  visitor  very  closely.  "  O,  Lily,  that's  the 
man  who  spoke  to  Fannie  and  me  at  the  station," 
she  said,  excitedly ;  and  Fannie  exchanged  a 
corroborative  glance  'with  her. 

He  could  not  have  heard  her,  but  he  guessed 
the  meaning  of  her  whisper,  for  he  touched  his 
hat  with  a  flourish,  remarking: 

"  Ah,  you  remember  me,  lady?     I  hope  you 


124  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

reached  home  safely?  Is  this  all  the  scholars 
Mrs.  Abbott  keeps?  " 

His  small  prominent  eyes  were  roving  about 
looking  most  particularly  at  the  smallest  girls ; 
and  Marion,  who  was  near  enough  to  hear  Bell's 
whisper,  grasped  Elfie's  hand  and  drew  her  to- 
ward the  house. 

"  Is  that  pretty  little  miss  the  young  scholar 
you  told  me  about  ?  "  he  asked,  addressing  Bell. 

"Don't  speak  to  him,  Bell,"  said  Lily,  quickly. 
"  Come,  girls,  let  us  go  in." 

He  called  after  them  as  they  moved  away,  but 
Marion  had  reached  the  door,  and,  seeing  Miss 
Blake,  called  her  out.  Her  appearance  on  the 
piazza,  seemed  discouraging  to  the  visitor,  who 
instantly  dropped  out  of  sight. 

"You  acted  just  as  if  you  thought  that  man 
was  going  to  eat  you  and  Elfie  up,"  said  Edna 
to  Marion  ;  "  but  I  suppose  a  person  brought  up 
in  the  woods  is  easily  scared." 

"  But  he  was  such  a  common-looking  wretch  ; 
he  was  enough  to  frighten  any  one,"  said  Katie. 

"  I  should  have  supposed  Mary  Ann  Stubbs 
would  be  the  last  one  in  the  world  to  mind  com- 
mon folks.  I  didn't  know  there  was  any  other 
kind  where  she  lived." 

"  May  be  my  neighbors  were  common,  but  they 


THE  WHITE  QUEEN.  125 

were  not  that  kind  of  common,"  said  Marion, 
with  some  spirit ;  "  that  man  looks  as  if  he  would 
steal." 

"  I  dare  say  he  would,  and  do  you  know  he 
looks  enough  like  the   peddler  to  be  his  brother, 
only,  of  course,  he's  better  dressed,"  said  Edna 
as  they  went  into  the  school-room. 
9 


126  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 


CHAPTER   XVI. 

IN    MRS.    ABBOTT'S    ROOM. 

*  MARION  went  directly  to  Mrs.  Abbott's  room 
when  school  was  over  and  told  her  of  the  man's 
appearance.  She  longed  to  tell  her,  too,  that 
the  same  man  had  seen  and  talked  with  two  of 
the  girls,  but,  according  to  the  school-girls'  code 
of  honor,  it  would  not  do  to  speak  of  their 
adventure  without  the  consent  of  Bell  and 
Fannie. 

Mrs.  Abbott  was  seriously  uneasy.  "  Do  you 
really  think  the  man  looked  particularly  at  little 
Elfie?"  she  asked,  "  or  did  your  knowledge  that 
possession  of  her  has  been  sought  before  make 
you  fanciful?" 

"I  am  sure  of  it,"  said  Marion,  positively, 
"and—" 

"And  what?  Don't  keep  any  thing  from  me, 
child;  this  is  a  terribly  serious  matter.  If  that 
man  is  some  one  employed  by  Ethel's  father, 
then  the  child  is  in  grave  danger,  and  my  re- 
sponsibility will  become  immense ;"  and  Mrs. 
Abbott  rose  and  walked  up  and  down  the  room 


IN  MRS.  ABBOTT'S  ROOM.  127 

with  an  appearance  of  great  perplexity  and  agita- 
tion. 

Marion  was  greatly  troubled.  "  Dear,  dear 
Mrs.  Abbott,"  she  whispered,  "  if  I  tell  you  some- 
thing will  you  forgive  me  if  I  ask  you  never  to 
tell  the  girls?  and  don't,  O,  don't  ask  me  to 
mention  any  names." 

"I  do  not  like  to  give  such  a  promise,"  said 
Mrs.  Abbott,  gravely  ;  "  if  you  know  any  thing 
I  ought  to  know,  then  it  is  your  duty  to  tell  me 
and  leave  me  to  decide  what  course  to  take." 

Marion  left  her  side  and  went  slowly  back  to 
her  seat.  It  seemed  to  her  like  a  very  mean 
thing  to  tell  of  other  girls'  transgressions,  and  yet 
love  for  Elfie  made  her  feel  it  necessary  Mrs. 
Abbott  should  know  all  about  the  strange  man, 
and  even  about  the  peddler's  visit ;  that,  too,  was 
undoubtedly  an  attempt  to  discover  if  Elfie  was 
living  there.  What  would  Edna  say  and  do  if 
she  told  any  thing  about  her?  At  that  thought, 
forgetting  she  was  not  alone,  she  exclaimed 
aloud,  "  O,  I  cannot,  cannot  tell !  " 

At  her  words  Mrs.  Abbott  stopped  in  her  walk, 
and,  seeing  the  real  suffering  in  her  face,  said  ten- 
derly, "  Poor  Marion,  you  do  not  want  to  trust 
me,  but  I  will  trust  you.  Tell  me  what  you  think 
I  ought  to  know,  as  far  as  it  concerns  this  mat- 


128  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

ter,  and  I  promise  you  that  no  one  shall  ever 
know  how  I  acquired  the  information.  I  would 
not  ask  you  to  do  violence  to  your  sense  of 
honor,  for  I  respect  your  feeling;  but  for  Elfie's 
sake  I  must  hear." 

"And  for  Elfie's  sake  I  will  tell  you,"  said 
Marion;  "but  don't  blame  me  if  I  do  not  give 
any  girl's  name.  This  man,  or  one  very  much 
like  him,  got  in  the  front  gate  with  a  peddler's 
pack  one  day  and  asked  some  of  the  girls  ques- 
tions." 

"What  kind  of  questions?" 

"  He  asked  ff  there  was  any  little  girl  in 
mourning  in  the  house?  " 

"  That  might  not  have  meant  any  thing,"  said 
Mrs.  Abbott,  "  if  it  stood  alone.  What  else  is 
there  to  tell?" 

"  The  same  man  that  looked  over  the  back 
fence  to-day  met  some  of  the  girls  not  long  ago 
and  talked  with  them." 

"  Where  ?  " 

"  O,  please  don't  ask  me  where,  but  he  had  a 
satchel  and  seemed  to  have  come  from  the  cars. 
He  said  he  was  a  friend  of  yours  and  was  com- 
ing to  ask  you  to  take  his  little  sister.  I  don't 
suppose  he  did  call?  " 

"  O,  never." 


IN  MRS.  ABBOTT'S  ROOM.  129 

"  This  is  the  part  that  troubles  me,  and  it  did 
even  before  he  looked  over  the  fence  at  us  to- 
day. He  managed  in  some  way  to  find  out  from 
the  girls  that  Elfie  is  here." 

"  How  unfortunate  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Abbott. 
"  O,  Marion,  our  dear  little  girl  is  in  danger. 
How  could  those  girls  tell  him?  " 

"  Don't  be  so  frightened,  Mrs.  Abbott.  I  am 
sure  no  one  can  steal  Elfie  while  we  are  watch- 
ing her  so  closely.  You,  Candace,  or  I  have  her 
in  sight  every  moment.  And  I  think — yes,  I  am 
quite  certain — that  I  would  risk  my  life  for  her 
any  moment." 

"  I  am  sure  you  would,  dear,  and  I  am  so 
thankful  that  I  trusted  you  with  this  matter, 
which  ought  to  be  a  secret,  because  Mr.  Bellamy 
is  especially  anxious  that  his  darling's  life  should 
never,  either  now  or  in  the  future,  be  darkened 
by  the  knowledge  of  what  he  fears  for  her.  She 
is  a  sensitive,  imaginative  child,  and  if  she  were 
haunted  by  a  fear  of  being  taken — stolen  is  not 
too  hard  a  word  to  call  it — she  would  become 
nervously  anxious,  with  the  probable  result  of 
confirmed  ill  health." 

"Poor  little  Elfie!" 

"  Dear,  dear  child,"  said  Mrs.  Abbott ;  "  she  is 
well  worth  watching  and  caring  for,  and  yet  the 


130  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

responsibility  has  become  so  complicated  now  by 
this  new  aspect  of  the  situation  that  I  bitterly 
regret  having  assumed  it.  I  wish  I  had  advised 
the  senator  to  take  Ethel  and  Candace  abroad 
with  him." 

"  It  cannot  be  helped  now,"  said  Marion,  re- 
spectfully, "  and  our  heavenly  Father  can  watch 
her  here  as  well  as  there." 

"  Thank  you  for  reminding  me  of  that,  dear. 
Perhaps  I  let  my  sense  of  personal  responsibility 
overwhelm  me  too  much  and  forget  whose  help 
I  can  ask." 

"  May  be  our  fears  have  made  us  over-suspi- 
cious," suggested  Marion,  by  way  of  comfort. 
"  Coincidences  are  very  funny  sometimes,  and  this 
man  may  really  have  no  interest  in  Elfie.  How 
could  he  have  even  suspected  she  might  be  here 
of  all  other  schools?" 

"  Mr.  Bellamy  must  have  been  watched  when 
he  traveled  and  came  here,"  said  Mrs.  Abbott. 
"  Yes,  indeed,  I  have  no  doubt  of  this  man's  mis- 
chievous purpose.  And,  my  dear,  watch  the 
child  closely,  as  you  have  watched  her  before ; 
be  even  more  watchful  still.  It  is  such  a  com- 
fort to  know  that  I  can  trust  you  to  do  it  so 
fully.  You  pay  me  over  and  over  again  for 
bringing  you  here,  Marion." 


Ix  MRS.  ABBOTT'S  ROOM.  131 

Marion  clasped  her  hands  before  her  face  in  a 
perfect  ecstasy  of  pleasure  at  these  lovely  words, 
and  as  Mrs.  Abbott  bent  and  kissed  her  fondly 
she  threw  her  arms  around  her  neck,  speechless, 
but  radiantly  happy. 


132  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 


CHAPTER   XVII. 

LILY'S     PREACHMENT. 

"  To-MORROW  the  machinery  stops  for  two 
weeks,"  said  Lily,  as  she  critically  examined  her 
Sunday  gown  before  laying  it  in  her  trunk. 

"Aren't  you  glad  of  it  ?  I  am,"  said  Edna, 
rather  spitefully  throwing  her  Ladies  Reader  into 
the  back  of  a  closet. 

"  Not  so  very.  'Cause  why  ?  the  machinery's 
got  to  begin  again  in  a  fortnight,  and  it's  hard 
to  '  pick  up  the  shovel  and  de  hoe-o-o '  after 
you've  left  them  lie  idle  while  you've  '  scraped 
de  fiddle  wid  de  bow-o-o,'  "  said  and  sang  Lily, 
still  poring  over  her  crimson  serge.  "  Ah,  ha  !  I 
have  him,"  she  continued. 

"Have  what  ?  " 

"  The  small  but  deadly  American  bison,  the  rev- 
eler in  wool,  the  destroyer  of  homes,  the  blighter 
of  clothes — the  living,  eating,  riotous  buffalo-bug. 
Here  in  the  folds  of  my  crimson  gown  I  traced  his 
fell  path.  Now,  Eureka  !  I  have  found  him,  and 
in  the  interest  of  my  fellow-mortals  I  will  impale 
him  on  a  pin  and  broil  him  on  a  burning  match." 


LILY'S  PREACHMENT.  133 

"  Poor  little  bug ! "  said  Elfie,  watching  him 
shrivel. 

"  He  don't  mind  it  much,"  said  Lily,  "  or  if  he 
did  he  doesn't  now.  I'm  not  fond  of  killing 
things,  pet,  but  buffalo-bugs  must  die.  Is  it  not 
so,  fellow-citizens  ?  " 

The  fellow-citizens  to  whom  she  appealed  were 
represented  by  Edna,  Katie,  Marion,  Fannie,  and 
Bell.  They  all  laughed  except  Bell.  She  looked 
very  solemn. 

"  O,  my  dear  Bell,"  said  Lily,  "  was  Mr.  Buf- 
falo Bug  a  friend  of  yours  ?  Your  smileless  face, 
your  solemn  eyes,  terrify  me.  This  tragedy  has 
wounded  you.  O,  how  little  did  I  think  that 
the  pale  martyr — no,  I  beg  his  pardon,  the  brown 
and  yellow,  fuzzy  martyr — at  the  stake  was  dear 
to  you.  Why  was  I  born  to  make  you  suffer 
thus?" 

"  Stop,"  said  Fannie  ;  "  you're  too  silly  for 
any  thing,  Lily.  What  ails  Bell  is  that  she  don't 
like  to  go  home  to-morrow  without  telling  Mrs. 
Abbott  that  we  went  to  the  station  alone." 

"  And  why  doesn't  she  tell  ? "  asked  Lily, 
growing  grave  instantly. 

"  Because  I  don't  want  her  to,"  said  Fannie. 
"  The  thing  is  past  and  gone,  and  there's  no  use 
in  reviving  it." 


134  THE  FRIENDLY  Fivr. 

"  That's  where  you're  right,"  said  Edna. 
"What  a  fool  you'd  be  to  go  and  tell  on  your- 
selves now.  Mrs.  Abbott  never'll  find  out  if  you 
don't  tell,  and  what  Bell  wants  to  get  herself  and 
you  into  a  muss  for  I,  for  one,  don't  see.  There 
was  some  danger,  I  thought  myself,  that  the  de- 
lightful young  man  would  speak  of  it  to  her. 
But  he's  evidently  a  fraud  ;  no  man  who  wanted 
to  put  his  sister  at  school  would  climb  up  and 
grin  at  the  girls  over  the  back  fence." 

"Hardly,"  said  Fannie,  "and  I'm  glad  you 
think  as  I  do.  Bell's  too  tiresome  for  any  thing." 

"  Fannie,  you  said  yourself  that  you  couldn't 
bear  to  keep  a  thing  back  just  for  fear  of  marks 
or  punishment,"  said  Bell. 

"Well,  I  didn't  say  I'd  never  smile  again,  did 
I  ?  I'm  awfully  sorry  we  went  to  the  station.  It 
was  taking  a  mean  advantage  of  Miss  Blake 
when  she  asked  us  to  wait  for  her  at  the  milli- 
ner's. It  was  tricky,  and  I  don't  defend  it,  but  I 
do  say  that,  as  we  did  let  the  time  for  talking 
go  by,  there's  no  use  raking  the  matter  up  now." 

"Why  don't  you  tell,  Bell,  if  Fannie  wont?  " 
asked  Katie,  who  was  writing  some  last  pages  in 
her  diary,  and  so  had  not  been  an  attentive  list- 
ener. 

"What   a  sneaky    idea!"    said    Bell,    rousing 


LILY'S  PREACHMENT.  135 

herself  from  the  gloom  which  had  settled  upon 
her.  "  I  can't  tell  without  involving  Fannie,  and 
I  won't  be  such  a  sneak  as  to  do  that." 

"  Now,  my  little  children,"  said  Lily,  "  let  me 
give  you  a  leaf  out  of  my  experience.  The  first 
year  I  was  here  I  stole  a  pie  !  I  did  ;  I  stole 
a  pie,  I  did.  It  doesn't  seem  like  a  crime  to  me 
now ;  it  seems  rather  funny ;  but  I  used  to  lie 
awake  nights  thinking  of  it  then.  It  happened 
upon  this  wise,  my  little  dears.  One  of  the  girls 
was  going  to  give  a  '  rampage ' — that  is,  a  night- 
gown party  after  bed-time.  Mrs.  Abbott  has 
put  a  stop  to  that  species  of  entertainment,  and 
I  don't  know  as  I  am  sorry,  for  we  used  to  take 
terrific  colds  flying  about  in  our  fairy-like  attire. 
We  always  indulged  in  some  form  of  refresh- 
ment, generally  crackers  and  pea-nuts.  The  lat- 
ter article  of  diet,  I  may  remark  in  passing,  was 
apt  to  produce  pallor  the  next  morning.  The 
night  in  question — don't  I  sound  like  a  magazine 
article  ? — we  found  ourselves  minus  even  the  so- 
ber cracker  and  the  festive  pea-nut,  and  one  of 
the  girls  dared  me  to  steal  down  the  back  stairs 
and  hook — that  is  what  she  called  it ;  I  keep 
nothing  back — hook  a  pie.  She  didn't  say  '  hook, 
hook,  a  pie,'  but  I  have  noticed  that  authors  al- 
ways express  things  that  way,  so  I  repeated  the 


136  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

word.  Well,  to  resume ;  in  my  callow  youth  I 
held  that  to  dare  meant  to  do,  so  I  did.  I  hied 
me  to  the  dark  and  grewsome  kitchen,  crept 
stealthily  to  the  pantry,  and  crawled  through  a 
window  that  communicated  with  the  dining-room 
pantry.  Ah,  the  recollection  paralyzes  me  !  '  Not 
a  drum  was  heard,  not  a  funeral  note,'  as  the  pie 
up  the  dark  stairs  I  carried.  Let  me  hasten  to 
the  end  before  emotion  overcomes  me.  At  the 
top  of  the  stairs  were  a  group  of  white-clad 
ghosts,  semi-distinct  in  the  faint  light  that  a 
clouded  moon  sent  through  the  skylight.  Some 
of  the  ghosts  giggled,  some  said,  '  Sh,  sh,'  and  the 
phantom  sounds  disturbed  Miss  Blake,  I  think, 
for  a  door  opened  far  around  the  corner  and  a 
glimmer  of  light  approached.  The  ghosts  van- 
ished and  sheltered  themselves  in  various  beds, 
where  their  slumbers  became  intense.  I  could 
not  fly  to  a  bed,  because  I  dared  not  take  another 
step  forward,  for  the  stately  form,  with  a  dim 
night-light,  had  turned  the  corner. 

"  I  was  near  the  top  of  the  stairs  when  the  dis- 
tant ray  first  appeared.  I  reached  the  stolen 
treasure  up  to  the  girls  and  flew  swiftly  down- 
stairs again  and  through  the  school-room  to  the 
front  hall — I  knew  every  body  was  in  bed — and 
up  the  front  stairs  to  my  room,  which  was  over 


LILY'S  PREACHMENT.  137 

in  the  new  part.  As  a^ cruel  fate  decreed,  the 
girls  were  in  too  great  a  panic  to  secure  the  pie 
I  handed  up  to  them,  and  left  it  on  the  floor. 

"  My  beloved  hearers,  cease  these  frivolous 
howls  of  laughter.  The  matter  is  serious.  THE 

PIE  WAS  PUMPKIN,  AND  MlSS  BLAKE  STEPPED 
IN  IT  !  " 

Lily's  listeners  were  shrieking  with  laughter 
over  her  droll  recital,  but  she  preserved  a  preter- 
naturally  solemn  expression,  which  still  more 
excited  their  mirth. 

"  Girls,"  said  she  at  last,  "  I  intended  this  for 
a  preachment,  and  how  am  I  to  give  you  the 
moral  unless  you  refrain  from  this  untimely 
mirth?" 

"  O,  Lily,  don't  look  so  funny!  "  gasped  Katie, 
throwing  herself  on  the  bed  and  holding  her 
sides. 

"  Don't  look  at  me,  but  listen,  then,  for  I  only 
told  the  story  to  get  the  moral  in,  so  I  can't  skip 
it.  I  wanted  to  tell  Mrs.  Abbott  I  took  the 
pie,  but  the  girls  wouldn't  let  me.  I  was  just 
about  as  happy  in  my  mind  and  jovial  in  my 
countenance  as  Bell  seems  to  be." 

"  Was  there  any  fuss  made  ?  "  asked  Edna.. 

"  O,  plenty;  Miss  Blake  was  very  angry  at  the 
outrage,  she  called  it,  and  seemed  to  think  the 


138  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVK. 

pie  was  planted  there  for  a  sort  of  trap  to  catch 
her  in.  Mrs.  Abbott  talked  about  it  in  school 
in  that  solemn-sweet  way  of  hers  and  said  she 
would  like  the  offender  to  come  to  her  room.  I 
wasn't  brave  enough  to  accept  that  invitation  in 
defiance  of  the  girls,  and  the  next  morning  she 
made  a  new  rule  forbidding  any  girl  to  go  into 
another  one's  room  after  bed-time.  At  last  the 
burden  of  my  secret  grew  too  tormenting,  and 
three  weeks  after  the  lark  I  crawled  into  her 
room  and  confessed." 

"  What  did  she  say  ?"  asked  Fannie  and  Bell 
together. 

"  O,  I  wither  up  small  when  I  think  of  it. 
She  looked  up  from  her  Kensington  work  and 
said  in  the  calmest  way,  '  I  knew  it  was  you, 
dear,  for  I  saw  you  fly  up  the  front  stairs.  I 
was  in  the  dark  closet  in  the  hall  groping  for  an 
extra  blanket,  and  old  Margaret  found  a  narrow 
Roman  ribbon,  the  next  morning,  that  had  been 
tied  around  a  braid,  in  the  dining-room  pantry. 
I  recognized  the  ribbon  as  yours.'  And  she  took 
it  from  her  desk  and  handed  it  to  me.  " 

"  You  must  have  felt  cheap  !  " 

"  O,  rny  !  And  I  felt  worse  still  when  she  took 
my  hand  and  said,  '  Lily,  I  have  not  cared  a 
straw  for  your  taking  the  pie,  but  it  has  hurt  me 


LILY'S  PREACHMENT.  139 

to  learn  you  were  not  high-principled  enough  to 
own  what  you  had  done  ! '  There  I  had  been 
playing  the  innocent  and  unconscious,  and  she 
knew  what  I  had  done,  and  she  had  never  told 
Miss  Blake.  I  tell  you,  Bell,  Mrs.  Abbott  is 
an  angel,  and  ever  since  that  time  I  have 
preferred  telling  her  any  thing  to  keeping  it  to 
myself." 

"  Is  that  the  moral  ?  "  asked  Edna. 

"  Perhaps  you  don't  see  it.  Well,  I'll  make  it 
plainer.  Don't  conceal  your  omissions  and  com- 
missions from  Mrs.  Abbott ;  and,  Fannie,  you'll 
be  more  comfortable  if  you  let  Bell  go  and  tell 
her." 

Fannie  hesitated  a  moment,  then  half  sullenly 
gave  her  permission,  and  Bell  flew  off  on  her  not 
too  easy  errand. 

The  other  girls  went  off  in  different  directions, 
all  but  Marion,  who  surprised  Lily  by  seizing 
both  her  hands  and  exclaiming: 

"  O,  dear,  dear  Lily,  I  thank  you  so !  " 

"You  are  extremely  welcome,"  Lily  said, 
with  a  greatly  puzzled  gaze  at  her,  "  although 
I  hardly  see  why  you  should  be  so  grateful 
simply  because  my  eloquence  persuaded  poor 
Bell  into  a  penitential  P.  P.  C.  on  Mrs.  Ab- 
bott. Perhaps  I  wakened  your  conscience. 


140  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

Have  you  stolen  a  pie  or  taken  a  trip  to  the 
station  ?" 

Marion  laughed,  but  did  not  explain,  and  hei 
heart  was  very  light ;  for  now  Mrs.  Abbott  could 
ask  Bell  all  the  questions  she  wanted  and  learn 
all  the  particulars  of  the  girls'  encounter  with 
the  suspicious  young  man. 


IN  VACATION.  141 


CHAPTER  XVIII. 

IX   VACATION. 

MARION  felt  a  little  desolate  as  the  last  of  the 
light-hearted  homeward-bound  crowd  left  the 
front  door  with  faces  bright  with  the  happy 
prospects  before  them.  In  their  own  delight 
the  girls  were  rather  thoughtless  in  farewells  to 
the  lonely  girl  who  was  left.  She  could  hardly 
keep  back  the  tears  as  she  turned  away  from 
the  door  and  walked  slowly  to  the  empty  school- 
room. 

She  sat  down  by  the  desk,  and  with  her  chin 
resting  in  the  palm  of  her  left  hand  picked  up  a 
pencil  and  scribbled  idly  on  an  envelope  that 
lay  at  hand.  She  did  not  know  what  she  was 
writing,  and  her  thoughts  were  so  absorbing  that 
she  did  not  hear  the  approach  of  a  gentleman 
with  gray  hair  and  a  black  mustache,  who  came 
in  through  the  door  behind  her  and  stood  a 
moment  watching  her  with  his  hat  in  his  hand, 
till  he  spoke ;  then  she  started  so  violently  that 
she  almost  fell  off  her  chair. 

"  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  exclaimed,    retreat- 
10 


142  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

ing  a  little  way  to  give  her  time  to  recover.  "  I 
must  seem  impertinent,  but  I  am  so  much  at 
home  in  my  sister's  house  that  I  am  apt  to 
prowl  around  the  rooms  in  this  lawless  way." 

"  Then  you  are  Mr.  Eaton  ? "  said  Marion, 
looking  up  into  the  kind,  trustworthy  eyes,  which 
returned  her  gaze  with  one  as  honest  and  frank 
as  her  own. 

"  Thank  you  for  guessing  me  out  like  an  easy 
riddle.  Now  see  if  I  can  make  as  shrewd  a 
guess.  You  are  Marion  !  " 

"  How  could  you  know  ?  "  said  Marion,  won- 
deringly. 

"  That  is  not  the  only  thing  I  know,"  said 
Mr.  Eaton.  u  I  know  that  when  you  turned  and 
saw  me  you  thought  I  had  come  to  kidnap  Ethel 
Bellamy?  " 

"  O,"  said  Marion,  coloring  violently,  "  how 
could  you  think  that?  " 

"You  don't  deny  it,  though,"  said  Mr.  Eaton, 
looking  very  much  as  if  he  wanted  to  laugh 
heartily. 

"  But  how  did  you  know?"  persisted  Marion, 
pressing  the  backs  of  her  hands  to  her  red 
cheeks,  which  would  not  grow  cool. 

"  I  have  a  Yankee  trick  of  putting  two  and 
two  together,  and  my  sister  is  a  graphic  letter- 


_ 


"  THEN   YOU    ARE   MR.   EATON  ?  " 


Ix  VACATION.  143 

writer.  I  am  so  sorry  I  was  detained  and  could 
not  get  here  before  she  went  away." 

"  She  is  coming  back  the  day  after  to-morrow," 
Marion  told  him,  "  and  I  kno\v  she  expected  you, 
but  she  was  obliged  to  go  to  New  York  on  busi- 
ness." 

"  Did  she  take  the  little  one  ?  But  never  mind 
telling  me  if  there  is  a  lingering  doubt  in  your 
mind  that  I  may  not  after  all  belong  to  the  vi- 
cious lot  who  are  after  poor  Ethel  Gray's  child  " 
— this  with  a  queer  twinkle  in  his  eyes  which 
made  Marion  laugh  too. 

"  You  look  so  exactly  like  Mrs.  Abbott  that  I 
am  sure  of  you." 

"  Do  I?"  he  said,  pulling  his  heavy  mustache 
thoughtfully. 

"  O,  of  course  she  has  no  mustache,"  laughed 
Marion,  "  but  the  eyes — 

"  And  the  gray  hair  ?  Yes,  we  are  a  pair  of 
grizzled  twins,  and  people  generally  think  us 
much  alike.  But,  Miss  Marion,  do  you  feel  cer- 
tain enough  of  me  to  tell  me  if  the  little  girl  has 
gone  with  my  sister?  I  had  hoped  to  find  her 
here." 

"  Mrs.  Abbott  did  not  like  to  leave  her,  but 
she  took  Candace  to  take  care  of  her." 

"  Then  it  seems  to  me  that  the  burden  of  en- 


144  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

tertaining  me  for  a  day  or  two  is  likely  to  fall  to 
your  unhappy  lot.  What  shall  you  do  to  amuse 
me?" 

"  I  will  show  you  which  room  you  are  to  have 
and  order  a  big  pitcher  of  hot  water  sent  right  up. 
Mrs.  Abbott  asked  me  to  if  you  came." 

"  That  will  be  very  amusing.     Thank  you." 

"  I  like  him  so  much,"  Marion  said  to  herself 
as  she  came  up  from  the  kitchen  after  giving  or- 
ders for  the  hot  water  and  suggesting  that  dinner 
should  be  served  on  one  of  the  little  tables  used 
to  stand  dishes  on  instead  of  the  long  T-shaped 
table,  which  was  a  pleasant  sight  to  see  when 
teachers  and  scholars  surrounded  it,  but  would 
be  doleful  for  two  lone  diners  to  contemplate. 

She  and  Mr:  Eaton  did  not  meet  again  till  the 
dinner-bell  summoned  them  to  the  long,  lonely 
dining-room.  He  was  standing  behind  one  of 
the  two  chairs  Liny  had  placed  at  opposite  sides 
of  the  little  square  table.  He  made  a  slight  mo- 
tion, which  she  misunderstood,  for  her  to  take  the 
chair  upon  which  his  hand  rested.  She  rather 
shyly  walked  toward  the  other  side,  and  he  quickly 
stepped  around  and  drew  out  that  chair  for  her, 
waiting  with  grave,  old-fashioned  courtesy  to  take 
his  own  seat  till  she  was  comfortably  settled  in 
hers.  It  was  all  very  embarrassing  to  Marion. 


IN  VACATION.  145 

She  colored  distressingly,  but  Mr.  Eaton,  whose 
manners  were  always  charming,  talked  to  her  so 
entertainingly  that  she  was  soon  smiling  and  en- 
joying the  cosy  dinner  with  him  very  much. 

"What  would  you  have  done  if  I  had  not 
come?  "  he  asked,  after  Liny  had  put  the  dessert 
on  the  table  and  left  the  room. 

"  I  should  have  been  very  lonely,  and  I  don't 
believe  I  could  have  eaten  any  dinner." 

"  I  have  enjoyed  my  dinner  far  more  for  hav- 
ing you  to  eat  it  with  me,  but  it  would  be  affec- 
tation for  me  to  say  that  I  couldn't  eat  without 
company,  for  I  took  every  meal  alone  for  two 
months  in  an  African  hut  and  had  a  very  fair  ap- 
petite on  some  very  peculiar  diet." 

"  O,  what  made  you  stay  so  long  in  that  kind 
of  a  place?"  said  Marion,  adding,  as  she  remem- 
bered he  had  been  a  missionary,  "  Did  you  stay 
because  you  thought  it  was  your  duty?  " 

"  I  felt  that  it  was  my  duty  to  get  away  as 
soon  as  I  possibly  could,  for  I  had  strong  reasons 
for  supposing  that  I  was  only  fed,  watched,  and 
tended  by  my  black  captors  to  keep  me  in  order 
for  a  certain  annual  ceremonial  which  was  con- 
sidered a  very  poor  show  indeed  unless  a  few 
captives  were  sacrificed  to  lend  falat  to  the  oc- 
casion." 


146  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  O,  O,  how  dreadful !  " 

"  I  don't  think  I  liked  any  part  of  it  except 
the  escape.  That  will  always  be  a  gratifying  re- 
membrance." 

"Lily  said  you  told  lovely  stories,"  said 
Marion. 

"  Lily  Dart,  if  it  is  she  you  mean,  is  a  great 
friend  of  mine,  and  a  person  with  an  insatiable 
thirst  for  stories.  But  I  don't  propose  to  inflict 
one  on  you  now." 

"  But,  O,  please  tell  me  how  you  got  away." 

"  Some  day  when  we  both  feel  like  it  I  will 
tell  you  the  beginning  and  end  of  this  story. 
As  for  the  middle  part  I  can  tell  you  now  that 
my  escape  from  the  hut  was  not  of  a  hair-breadth 
character,  although  the  journey  I  had  to  take  to 
put  a  safe  space  between  myself  and  my  enemies 
was  sufficiently  exciting." 

"  I  did  not  intend  to  tell  any  traveler's  stories 
this  vacation,"  he  added,  smiling  at  the  intense 
interest  in  Marion's  face,  "  but  you  have  almost 
beguiled  me  into  it." 

"  O,  I  should  so  like  to  hear  how  you  got  out 
of  the  hut,"  said  Marion. 

"There  is  generally  a  story  within  a  story. 
Six  months  before  I  had  administered  some  gen- 
erous doses  of  medicine  to  a  chief  who  was  be- 


Ix  VACATION.  147 

lieved  to  be  dying,  with  the  result  of  effecting  a 
rapid  cure.  This  man,  with  some  attendant  war- 
riors, happened  to  call  a  halt  in  the  vicinity  of  my 
prison.  As  a  matter  of  etiquette  the  captives 
were  exhibited  to  the  visitor.  I  did  not  then 
recognize  the  recovered  invalid  in  his  feathers 
and  paint,  but  during  the  night  he  stole  into  my 
tent  and  by  signs  and  the  use  of  the  little  of  his 
native  language  which  was  at  my  command  we 
had  a  short  but  delightful  interview  which  ended 
in  his  taking  me  out  of  the  hut,  stepping  over 
a  dozen  dark  sleepers.  They  usually  guarded  me 
vigilantly,  but  my  friend  had  managed  to  drug 
them  into  stupidity.  After  passing  them  safely 
I  was  given  over  to  the  care  of  two  men  who 
guided  me  on  the  way  I  wished  to  pursue  till 
daylight,  when  they  left  me  to  my  own  devices." 
"  O,  how  interesting  !  "  said  Marion,  drawing  a 
long  breath.  "  I  have  read  about  savage  coun- 
tries and  people,  but  I  never  expected  to  know 
any  one  who  had  really  seen  them." 


148  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 


CHAPTER  XIX. 

A  HAPPY  DAY. 

THE  next  day  was  one  of  the  happiest  Marion 
had  ever  spent.  Mr.  Eaton  took  her  for  a  long 
drive  to  a  lovely  distant  village  that  looked 
sleepy  enough  in  the  winter,  but  was  a  gay  scene 
in  summer,  he  told  her,  when  the  two  large  ho- 
tels that  were  close  to  the  lake  were  filled  with  a 
gay  crowd.  They  were  both  closed  now,  but 
Mr.  Eaton  drove  to  a  smaller  one  which  was 
always  open,  and  there,  while  the  fat  pony  rested 
and  enjoyed  his  oats,  they  took  dinner.  The 
table  was  quite  long  and  full,  and  from  where 
Marion  sat  she  could  look  through  a  little  hall  to 
the  kitchen  where  some  \vomen  were  washing 
piles  of  dishes  at  a  long  table.  It  reminded  her 
vividly  of  the  time  when  she  spent  hours  every 
day  at  the  same  kind  of  work. 

Was  it  only  last  summer?  She  lifted  up  her 
hand  and  looked  at  it  inside  and  out.  It  was 
not  white  yet,  but  the  palm  was  growing  pink 
and  soft. 

"  Two    cents    for    your   thoughts,"    said    Mr. 


A  HAPPY  DAY.  149 

Eaton,  smiling  to  see  her  apparent  forgetful- 
ness. 

"I  wasn't  thinking  of  any  thing  particular," 
said  Marion,  starting  from  her  reverie. 

"  Were  you  not  ?  There  was  an  intentness 
about  you  which  gave  me  the  impression  that 
you  were  thinking  out  some  problem." 

"  I  don't  know  what  I  said  that  for.  I  was 
thinking  of  something  particular;  I  was  think- 
ing of  all  the  days  of  my  life  till  Mrs.'Abbott 
brought  me  to  Coventry." 

"  I  should  say  that  was  a  pretty  long  think  for 
such  a  short  time." 

"  But,  Mr.  Eaton,  I  used  to  wipe  dishes  just 
as  you  can  see  those  girls  in  there.  I  did  it  for 
hours  every  day.  I  think  I  was  too  ashamed  for 
a  minute  to  tell  you  that  when  you  asked  me 
what  I  was  thinking  of." 

Honest  Marion  colored  as  she  made  this  con- 
fession, which  Mr.  Eaton  took  very  equably,  in 
some  way  giving  the  impression  by  his  manner 
that  he  considered  washing  and  wiping  dishes  a 
very  natural  and  every- day  affair. 

But  as  they  were  driving  home  over  the  snow, 
which  sparkled  like  diamonds  under  the  morn- 
ing sun,  but  took  a  warm,  rosy  tint  in  the  sunset 
light,  Mr.  Eaton  told  Marion  a  little  Persian 


150  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

story  which  showed  he  had  been  thinking  of  the 
matter. 

"  A  king  sent  one  of  his  ministers  one  day  to 
carry  jewels  to  a  queen  he  delighted  to  honor. 
When  the  proud  trust  was  accomplished  the 
messenger  walked  among  the  courtiers  with 
lifted  head  and  lofty  bearing,  and  every  one 
strove  to  be  noticed  by  a  man  so  honored  and 
trusted.  A  few  days  after  the  king  sent  him  to 
clean  with  his  own  hands  the  steps  of  the  mar- 
ket-place, where  dogs  and  beggar-children  scram- 
bled and  fought  for  the  refuse  that  was  thrown 
out,  and  where  the  long,  undisturbed  accumula- 
tion of  dirt  had  made  that  entrance  hideous. 
When  his  work  was  ended  the  man  came  back 
from  the  uncongenial  task  with  as  proud  a  step, 
as  lofty  a  carriage,  as  serene  an  eye  as  when  he 
returned  from  his  errand  of  trust  and  honor.  Of 
the  sneers  and  jeers  of  the  courtiers  at  his  abase- 
ment, and  their  laughter  at  the  stains  and  soil 
upon  his  white,  gold-wrought  robes,  he  seemed 
unconscious.  At  the  king's  feet  he  knelt,  as 
he  had  knelt  the  day  before,  and  said,  '  What 
thou  didst  give  me  to  do,  my  king,  I  did  as  I 
could.' 

" '  And  which  service  was  most  pleasing  to 
thee  ?  '  asked  the  king. 


A  HAPPY  DAY.  151 

"'All  things  that  are  done  for  thee  are  alike 
pleasing  to  thy  servant,'  was  the  answer. 

"And  the  king,  turning  to  his  people,  said, 
'  He  is  greater  than  ye  all,  for  his  love  and  obe- 
dience make  base  services  as  great  as  royal 
embassies.' 

"  Do  you  understand  that,  Marion  ?  "  he  asked, 
as  they  turned  the  familiar  corner  which  brought 
the  school,  with  its  high  fence,  in  sight. 

"  I  think  so,"  she  said,  hesitatingly.  "  Isn't  it 
that  if  the  Lord  gives  us  a  disagreeable  thing  to 
do — a  duty  that  seems  disgraceful — we  should, 
if  we  love  him,  do  it  just  as  if  it  was  something 
noble?" 

"  That  is  it,  exactly,  and  there  is  no  disgrace 
in  washing  dishes.  It  seems  to  me  to  become  a 
noble  service  when  the  tired  little  hands  are 
working  to  bring  comfort  to  helpless  dear  ones." 

He  said  that  very  softly,  looking  away  into 
the  soft  cloud-banks  that  were  fast  resolving 
themselves  into  the  long,  stratified  dark  lines 
that  bridge  the  space  from  dusk  to  dark.  He 
seemed  almost  to  be  talking  to  himself,  but  Mar- 
ion knew  well  that  his  words  were  spoken  to 
comfort  her.  She  would  gladly  have  said  some 
words  of  thanks,  but  none  seemed  to  come,  not 
even  when  he  lifted  her  out  of  the  sleigh  at  the 


152  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

door,  and  told  her  to  run  in  and  get  warm,  could 
she  express  the  pleasure  the  day  had  given  her. 
But,  although  she  did  not  know  it,  her  delight 
showed  plainly  in  her  bright  face,  and  in  the 
happy  sparkle  of  her  big,  honest  gray  eyes. 

Mrs.  Abbott  came  home  the  next  morning 
and  engrossed  her  brother  so  entirely  that 
Marion  would  have  greatly  missed  her  compan- 
ion of  the  last  day  or  two  if  she  had  not  had 
full  consolation  in  Elfie's  society.  The  child's 
love  for  her  grew  stronger  every  day,  and  Can- 
dace  was  almost  jealous  when  her  little  missy 
refused  to  say  her  prayers  with  her  little  bowed 
head  resting  upon  any  one's  lap  but  Marion's. 


LETTERS.  153 


CHAPTER  XX. 

LETTERS. 

THE  mail-bag  came  in  as  usual  just  after 
breakfast  the  next  morning,  but  the  number  of 
letters  was  greatly  reduced,  of  course,  and  there 
was  no  animated,  chattering  crowd  standing  about 
eagerly  watching  while  Mrs.  Abbott  unlocked 
the  padlock  and  distributed  the  letters. 

Marion  had  never  received  a  letter  in  her  life, 
so  she  and  Elfie  walked  past  the  hall-table  where 
Mrs.  Abbott  was  opening  the  bag  without  so 
much  as  a  glance  at  it,  but  they  had  not  reached 
the  top  of  the  stairs  before  Mr.  Eaton  called 
out : 

"  Letters  for  you,  Marion." 

"  Letters  for  me  ?  O,  no,  they  can't  be  mine, 
they  must  be  for  some  of  the  other  girls." 

"  But  how  very,  very  imbecile  their  corre- 
spondents must  be  to  direct  them  to  Miss  Mar- 
ion Stubbs!" — holding  up  two  square  envelopes, 
one  white,  the  other  robin's-egg  blue.  "  Don't 
you  think  you'll  have  to  open  them  so  as  to  see 
which  of  the  girls  they  are  really  meant  for? 


154  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

or  shall  I  lay  them  away  till  vacation  is  over,  and 
then  put  them  up  at  auction  ?  " 

"He  is  teasing  you,  Marion,"  said  Mrs.  Ab- 
bott, glancing  up  from  the  letter  she  was  read- 
ing. "They  are  really  for  you." 

Such  a  pleasure  actually  to  have  letters  of 
tier  own  !  Marion  had  often  envied  the  girls 
when  they  clutched  their  letters  from  home  and 
became  absorbed  in  their  contents,  smiling,  ex- 
claiming, and  sometimes  almost  crying,  as  their 
eyes  devoured  the  home  news.  But  poor  Mrs. 
Stubbs,  with  her  broken-down  health  and  her 
never-ceasing  work,  had  no  time  to  write  to  her 
daughter,  and  even  if  she  had  it  was  so  many 
years  since  she  had  written  a  letter  that  she 
would  hardly  know  how  to  do  it.  As  for  her 
father  and  the  little  boys,  they  would  cheerfully 
have  killed  a  bear  or  a  rattlesnake  or  even  en- 
countered a  mad  dog  and  conquered  him,  for 
their  absent  girl's  sake,  but  such  a  stupendous, 
overwhelming  task  as  writing  a  letter  was  not 
even  to  be  considered,  and  the  well-written, 
dutiful,  fortnightly  letters  which  Marion  duly 
sent  to  the  humble  mountain  home  were  re- 
garded with  awe  and  wonder,  and  read  again 
and  again  by  her  proud  and  affectionate  family. 

But  there  were  actually  letters  for  her  to-day, 


LETTERS.  155 

and  the  joy  of  receiving  them  was  so  great  that 
Marion  laid  them  face  up  on  her  table  and 
gloated  over  them,  not  for  some  time  attempt- 
ing to  make  them  reveal  their  contents.  When 
she  did  break  the  seal  of  the  blue-tinted  envelope 
she  read  these  astonishing  lines  : 

"  MY  DEAR  MARION  :  You  are  coming  to 
spend  a  week  with  me  and  go  back  to  school 
with  me  and  Lily — I  mean  Lily  and  me — that 
is,  if  you  want  to.  Mamma  said  our  house  was 
going  to  be  too  empty  at  Christmas,  and  I  might 
invite  some  girls.  So  I  chose  you  and  Lily,  and 
mamma  has  written  to  Mrs.  Abbott  about  it, 
and  I  do  hope  she  will  let  you  come. 
"  Ever  your  affectionate  friend, 

"  KATHERINE  STOWE  ASHLEY." 

That  stately  signature  did  not  seem  like 
Katie,  but  Marion  knew  perfectly  well  whose 
hand  wrote  the  invitation  which  filled  her  heart 
with  rapture,  not  for  the  pleasure  of  anticipating 
a  visit,  for  she  was  not  sure  she  really  wanted  to 
go,  but  it  was  delicious  to  feel  that  she  was 
wanted,  and  that  dear,  warm-hearted,  loving 
Katie  had  chosen  her  when  she  might  have 
asked  Edna  or  Bell  or  any  of  the  girls  who  were 


1 56  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

used  to  better  ways  of  living  and  better  society 
than  she  had  known. 

Mrs.  Abbott,  coming  into  her  room  with  Elfie, 
a  few  moments  later,  found  her  plunged  in  a 
happy  reverie,  with  the  second  letter  still  un- 
opened. 

"  Listen,  dear,"  she  said,  sitting  down  by  her 
side.  "  This  letter  of  mine  very  nearly  concerns 
you : 

"  NEW  YORK,  MADISON  AVENUE,  Dec.  20. 

"Mv  DEAR  MRS.  ABBOTT:  Will  you  let 
Katie's  friend,  Miss  Marion  Stubbs,  come  and 
spend  a  portion  of  the  holidays  with  us  ? 

"  If   you  will  let  her  come    Mr.  Ashley  will 
meet  her  at  the  Grand  Central   Station  on   the 
24th,  if  you  will  let  us  know  the  train. 
"  With  kindest  regards,  yours  very  sincerely, 

"  E.  T.  ASHLEY." 

"You  don't  look  surprised  !  " 

"  No,  I  knew  Mrs.  Ashley  had  written  to  you  ;  " 
and  Marion  handed  Katie's  letter  to  her. 

"Isn't  it  good  of  them?"  she  asked,  watch- 
ing Mrs.  Abbott's  face  till  she  finished  reading. 

"Yes;  I  am  glad  you  are  to  have  such  a  treat, 
for  I  feared  it  would  be  dull  for  you  here." 

"  It  could  not  be  dull  with  you  and  Elfie  and 


LETTERS.  157 

Mr.  Eaton,"  said  Marion,  "  and  I  don't  know 
as  I  really  want  to  go ;  I  am  afraid  I  shouldn't 
know  just  how  to  act  always,  and  I  might  make 
Katie  ashamed  before  her  friends." 

"That  is  doing  Katie  great  injustice." 

"  O,  I  don't  mean  it  that  way,"  exclaimed 
Marion,  kissing  her  letter  impulsively. 

"  I  know  you  don't ;  but,  my  dear  child,  you 
haven't  read  your  other  letter  !  " 

That  was  from  Lily,  and,  as  might  be  ex- 
pected, was  very,  funny.  Smiles  and  dimples 
attended  Marion's  reading  of  it,  and  when  she 
had  finished  she  handed  it  to  Mrs.  Abbott, 
who  said : 

"  Wont  you  read  it  to  me  yourself,  so  that 
Elfie  can  enjoy  it  too?" 

So  Marion  began : 

"  '  DEAR  LEFT-BEHINDER  :  It  was  brutal  in  us 
to  go  off  and  leave  the  dear  little  mountain 
maid  all  to  herself,  and  Katie  and  I  talked  our- 
selves into  a  fury  of  sympathy  after  we  got  into 
the  cars.  The  only  comfort  we  had  was  in  hop- 
ing Mr.  Eaton  would  get  there  right  away.  His 
a  dear  ! 

11 '  Now,  I  feel  the  spirit  of  poesy  jumping  onto 

me;  attend,  please. 
11 


158  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  '  Old  Coventry  braes  are  bonny, 
Where  early  falls  the  dew, 

But  that,  my  dear  old  Marion, 
Is  not  the  place  for  you. 

'"So  give  us  your  promise  true, 
That  ne'er  forgot  shall  be, 

To  do  as  Katie  asks  you, 

And  pack  your  trunk  with  glee. 


"  '  I  don't  believe  I  can  do  the  subject  justice 
in  poetry,  so  I'll  go  back  to  prose.  Do  come, 
Maid  Marion.  You  must ;  if  you  don't  you  shall 
be  black-balled  next  term  ;  that  means  something 
awful.  I  feel  in  my  bones  that  you  will  try  not 
to  come,  but  you  must. 

" '  I  want  to  tell  you  something.  We  heard 
Edna  say  in  the  cars  that  Mrs.  Ashley  went  in 
the  best  set  in  New  York,  and  she'd  give  any 
thing  if  her  mother  knew  her.  Now,  don't  that 
make  you  want  to  show  Edna  (spiteful  humbug) 
what  you  can  do.  It  will  be  just  fun  to  see  her 
rage  about  it  next  term. 

"  '  If  you  dare  to  say  no  you'll  break  my  heart. 
I  shall  think  it's  because  I  am  going  to  be  there. 
Katie  was  always  nice  to  you,  but  I  was  horrid, 
just  wicked,  and  even  if  you  did  forgive  me  no 
one  can  blame  you  if  you  can't  forget.  But  if 
you  don't  come  I  shall  just  be  a  raving  wreck,  and 


LETTERS.  159 

I  wont  go  to  Katie's  if  you  don't.    So,  there  no\v, 
I  have  said  it. 


"  '  O,  what  a  naughty  thing  you'd  be, 
To  plunge  your  friends  in  misery, 
So  come  along  and  Christmas  spend, 
And  likewise  New  Year's,  with  your  friend. 

"  '  (Plural  understood  ;  couldn't  say  spends,  so 
had  to  take  the  "s"  off  the  friends.  There's 
awful  limitations  to  poetry.) 

"  '  Katie  hates  writing  letters  so  awfully  that  I 
told  her  if  she'd  just  write  the  bare  invitation 
I'd  do  the  urging.  Now,  I'm  sure  I  don't  know 
what  more  I  can  say  to  make  you  come ;  but  if 
you  dare  to  write  a  stiff  little  note  beginning, 
"  I  am  so  sorry,"  I'll  choke  you,  and  I'll  send  word 
to  Mrs.  Abbott  to  have  you  chloroformed  and 
carried  onto  the  cars  with  your  feet  tied,  so  you 
can't  kick  when  you  come  to. 

"  '  Don't  be  afraid  to  come,  for  Katie's  mother 
is  almost  as  sweet  as  Mrs.  Abbott,  and  Mr.  Ash- 
ley's lovely.  He  almost  shakes  himself  to  bits 
laughing.  I  believe  that's  why  lie's  so  bald,  he's 
shaken  all  his  hair  off. 

"  '  Now  you  are  coming,  aren't  you  ? 


"  'Yes,  yes,  yes,  yes,  say  you  are  coming,  my  sweet, 
To  visit  our  Katie  in  Madison  Street. 


160  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  '  (It  isn't  street,  it's  avenue,  really,  but  I  took 
poet's  license.) 

"  '  Now,  farewell.     Your  loving  LILY. 

"  '  P.  S.— O,  do  come. 

"  '  Particular  P.  S. — Come  now,  don't  say  no.'  " 

Mrs.  Abbott  laughed  heartily  when  the  letter 
was  read. 

"  I  really  think  Lily  is  the  most  sprightly  girl 
I  ever  had  in  my  school." 

"  I  never  saw  any  one  I  envied  so  much,"  said 
Marion. 

"  You  need  not,  dear.  We  all  have  different 
gifts,  but  that  is  not  to  say  that  one  kind  ranks 
above  another.  Lily's  vivacity  leads  her  into 
trouble  sometimes,  and  I  have  heard  her  say, 
when  she  has  been  suffering  the  consequences 
of  her  thoughtlessness,  that  she  wished  she  was 
more  like  you  in  some  things.  But  we  will  take 
a  more  convenient  season  for  discussing  gifts  and 
traits.  For  now  we  must  give  our  minds  to 
shoes  and  clothes  for  this  visit." 

"  O,  do  you  really  think  I  had  better  go  ?  " 

"  I  am  sure  of  it,  and  you. and  I  and  Liny  must 
work  hard  ;  fortunately  she  can  work  nicely  on 
the  machine,  and  she  has  little  else  to  do  in  va- 
cation. When  I  was  in  New  York  I  bought  for 


LETTERS.  161 

your  Christmas  present  a  red  cashmere  dress  and 
a  brown  plush  sack  that  I  tried  on  a  girl  about 
your  size.  I  think  we  can  get  the  woman  who 
made  Elfie's  dresses  to  give  us  to-morrow  and  the 
next  day.  So  we  shall  turn  out  a  very  respect- 
able little  red-bird  for  a  city  visit." 


1 62  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 


CHAPTER    XXI. 

IN     KATIE'S     HOME. 

"  FIVE  o'clock,  girls,"  said  Katie,  pressing  an 
electric  button  that  she  could  reach  without 
leaving  her  seat.  "  Jennie  will  bring  in  the  tea  ; 
she  knows  what  that  bell  means  at  this  hour. 
And,  Lily,  do  stop  asking  Marion  questions. 
She's  only  been  in  the  house  half  an  hour,  and  I 
know  she's  all  worn  out  with  the  trip." 

"  Worn  out  !  Why,  it  was  splendid  !  I  was 
sorry  it  wasn't  longer." 

The  girls  were  sitting  in  Katie's  own  pretty 
room,  where  every  thing  was  primrose  and  gold, 
and  she  and  Lily  were  doing  their  best  to  make 
Marion  feel  at  ease  in  the  rather  embarrassing 
ordeal  of  making  her  first  visit.  Mr.  Ashley  had 
met  her  at  the  station  and  was  cordiality  itself. 
Mrs.  Ashley's  greeting  was  heartfelt  too,  and  the 
two  girls  flung  themselves  upon  her  in  vociferous 
welcome. 

Perhaps  they  had  both  felt  a  little  nervous 
about  her ;  but  there  was  no  need.  Her  close 
observation  of  such  a  good  model  as  Mrs.  Ab- 


Ix  KATIE'S  HOME.  163 

bott  and  her  quick  faculty  of  imitation  had  so 
changed  her  manner  and  speech  that  there  was 
really  nothing  to  object  to.  She  had  benefited, 
too,  by  the  cruel  ridicule  of  her  thoughtless 
school-mates,  which  had  been  lacerating  while  it 
lasted  and  very  hard  to  bear. 

Katie  took  her  up  to  the  pretty  room  she  was 
to  occupy  after  they  had  finished  their  little  cups 
of  tea  and  eaten  a  thin  slice  of  bread  and  butter. 

"  We  should  have  to  put  you  both  into  the 
guest-chamber  ordinarily,"  she  said,  "  but  brother 
Jim  and  my  two  unmarried  sisters  are  traveling 
in  Europe  with  grandfather ;  so  there's  lots  of 
room.  See,  Lily's  door  opens  into  your  room, 
so  you  needn't  feel  lonesome.  I  am  going  to 
get  mamma  to  send  Adele  to  dress  your  hair. 
She  always  does  mine  when  I  am  at  home." 

Marion  declined  the  services  of  the  French 
maid,  but  Katie  laughed  and  ran  down  again, 
and  in  a  few  minutes  Adele  came  in,  having  been 
ordered,  she  said,  to  help  the  young  lady.  Mrs. 
Abbott  had  told  Marion  to  do,  as  far  as  she 
could,  what  her  friends  expected  her  to  while 
she  was  visiting  them  ;  so  she  submitted  to  hav- 
ing her  hair  dressed,  and  received  so  many  com- 
pliments from  Adele  on  its  length,  quantity,  and 
beautiful  curliness  that  she  was  quite  comforted. 


164  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

When  she  looked  in  the  glass  after  the  hair- 
dressing  was  over  she  hardly  knew  herself,  and 
Lily,  running  in  just  then,  fell  into  raptures. 

"  Where  have  you  always  hidden  all  that  beau- 
tiful hair  ? "  she  exclaimed.  "  Why,  you  are 
positively  lovely  with  your  red  cheeks  and  that 
fluff  on  your  forehead.  I  wonder  if  Adele  could 
change  me  into  a  beauty.  But  look  here,  Mar- 
ion, you  want  to  wear  your  best  dress,  the  blue 
one,  you  know,  to-night,  because  there's  to  be  a 
Christmas-tree,  and  the  married  son  and  daughter 
are  coming,  and  they're  awfully  swell." 

"  I  have  a  prettier  dress  than  that,  a  red  one ;" 
and  Marion  exhibited  her  new  dress. 

"  My,  but  I'm  glad,"  said  Lily;  "  for  really,  do 
you  know,  Marion,  I  was  wishing  you  had  some- 
thing pretty  to  come  out  in  to-night  ?" 

Truly  Marion,  with  her  hair  stylishly  rrranged 
and  delicate  'white  frilling  at  the  neck  and 
sleeves  of  the  bright  red  dress  was  a  pleasant 
picture  as  she  took  her  seat  by  Lily's  side  at  the 
dinner-table. 

Katie  explained  to  her  mother  that  as  life  at 
Mrs.  Abbott's  included  a  two-o'clock  dinner 
they  must  be  excused  if  their  appetites  were 
feeble  at  a  seven-o'clock  dinner.  Mr.  Ashley  af- 
fected to  consider  this  a  great  joke,  and  went 


IN  KATIE'S  HOME.  165 

into  little  spasms  oT  mirth  every  time  the  plates 
were  changed  and  the  "  feeble  appetites"  did  not 
prevent  the  girls  from  tasting  every  dish  that  was 
offered. 

They  were  occupied  with  their  dessert  when 
the  married  Ashley  children  came.  The  son  had 
a  pretty  little  wife,  who  looked  nearly  as  young  as 
Katie,  and  a  wonderfully  smart  little  black-eyed 
daughter  of  three,  who  asked,  the  instant  she 
came  in,  where  "  Danpa's  Twissmus-twee  "  was. 

Mrs.  Clifford  Leigh,  the  oldest  Ashley  daugh- 
ter, was  a  tall,  handsome  young  woman,  whose 
rather  haughty  bearing  frightened  Marion  into 
awkwardness  at  first,  but  when  an  exclamation 
of  rapturous  admiration  escaped  her  lips  at  the 
sight  of  two  lovely  children  who  were  brought 
in  by  their  nurses  the  young  mother's  face  soft- 
ened into  a  gratified  smile  which  made  it 
charming. 

Marion  had  a  feeling  that  Mrs.  Clifford  de- 
spised her,  and  Lily,  who  sometimes  had  very 
keen  intuitions,  suspected  her  feeling  and  whis- 
pered : 

"  Say,  Marion,  don't  you  worry.  Katie  has 
never  said  any  thing  about  you  to  her  brothers 
and  sisters.  Not  that  there's  much  of  any  thing 
to  say ;  but  you  know  what  I  mean." 


1 66  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

For  answer  Marion  squeezed  her  hand  lov- 
ingly and  immediately  felt  more  indifferent  to 
Mrs.  Clifford's  haughty  manner,  which  was,  after 
all,  nothing  but  manner,  for  she  was  really  as 
good-natured  and  friendly  as  Katie  herself. 

Mrs.  Ashley  excused  herself  and  mysteriously 
retired  to  the  drawing-room,  between  which  and 
the  dining-room  the  portieres  were  closely  drawn 
together.  Presently  they  slid  swiftly  apart  and 
the  whole  company  went  toward  the  other  end 
of  the  long  room,  where  stood  a  dazzling 
Christmas-tree  lighted  by  a  host  of  candles  and 
brilliant  with  silver  and  gilt  decorations  that 
caught  and  reflected  the  light  with  glittering 
effect. 

The  little  ones  danced  about  gayly  with  out- 
cries of  delight,  and  Marion  was  dumb  with  ad- 
miration at  her  first  sight  of  a  real  Christmas- 
tree.  She  had  read  of  them  often,  but  never 
imagined  they  could  be  so  beautiful. 

Mr.  Ashley,  with  a  tiny  hand  in  each  of  his, 
began  dancing  his  little  granddaughters  about  to 
the  waltz  which  was  trilled  out  by  an  immense 
music-box,  till  Mrs.  Clifford  reminded  him  that 
they  were  all  pining  for  a  view  of  their  presents. 
So  he  put  on  an  absurdly  serious  manner  and 
began  to  gather  the  fruit  that  Santa  Claus  had 


Ix  KATIE'S  HOME.  167 

raised  in  his  own  private  hot-house,  as  he  ex- 
pressed it. 

The  first  fruit  plucked  was  a  beautiful  doll, 
which  was  handed  to  little  Hilda  Ashley,  who 
received  it  enthusiastically.  Its  twin  was  given 
to  her  oldest  little  cousin,  and  small  Master 
Clifford  received  a  box  that  stood  under  the 
tree,  being  too  heavy  to  hang  upon  it.  The 
young  gentleman  was  immediately  lost  to  sight 
behind  the  box,  but  his  approval  of  the  con- 
tents, as  his  nurse  took  them  out,  was  distinctly 
audible.  Horses  and  their  attachments  had 
been  his  craze  all  of  his  short  life,  and  the  ma- 
jestic pair  of  bays  with  a  big,  solid  express- 
wagon  that  filled  the  box,  were  almost  large 
enough  for  actual  service. 

There  were  many  other  presents  for  the  chil- 
dren, which  were  taken  in  charge  by  their  moth- 
ers, and  then  Mr.  Ashley  said  Santa  Claus  owed 
them  an  apology  for  entirely  forgetting  to  pro- 
vide any  thing  for  the  grown  folks.  Katie  whis- 
pered to  Marion  that  he  had  made  that  same  re- 
mark every  year  since  she  could  remember;  but 
even  if  it  was  not  strictly  original  on  the  present 
occasion  it  was  thought  irrestisibly  funny,  for 
while  he  was  sadly  shaking  his  head  over  the 
misfortune  he  was  untying  the  blue  ribbon 


i68  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

which  held  a  morocco  box  to  the  tree.  This  he 
handed  mournfully  to  young  Mrs.  Ashley,  whose 
eyes  sparkled  as  she  opened  it  and  discovered 
an  opal  ring  with  a  brilliant  setting  of  diamonds. 
She  flashed  an  appreciative  look  at  her  husband, 
who  was  watching  her,  and  Marion  felt  sure  the 
ring  had  been  presented  by  him. 

Mrs.  Clifford  had  from  her  husband  a  re- 
minder that  the  day  was  also  the  anniversary 
of  their  wedding,  in  the  shape  of  a  lovely  pin 
modeled  from  an  antique  Swedish  wedding- 
gift. 

The  young  men  received  a  collection  of  um- 
brellas, canes,  pins,  and  sleeve-buttons,  and  then 
more  boxes  with  gifts  from  father  and  mother 
and  friends  were  taken  down  and  given  to  their 
wives.  Then  Mr.  Ashley,  in  a  puzzled  way,  de- 
clared it  seemed  astonishing  that  three  young 
and  interesting  girls  should  be  left  out  when 
every  one  else  was  remembered.  Even  Mrs. 
Ashley,  he  said,  had  her  pile,  and  a  goodly  pile 
it  was.  Katie  abused  him  roundly  as  he  slowly 
inspected  parcels  and  boxes  on  the  tree  and  on 
the  table  behind  it,  and  declared  she  would 
jump  over  the  ribbon  that  was  stretched  across 
that  end  of  the  room  for  a  dividing-line.  At 
last  he  slowly  took  down  a  square  flat  box,  then 


IN  KATIE'S  HOME.  169 

laid  it  on  the  table,  remarking  in  a  hopeless  way 
that  the  writing  was  upside-down. 

"Turn  it  the  other  way,"  cried  Katie,  stamping 
her  foot  in  mock  anger. 

"  What  a  head  you  have  !  "  said  her  father,  and 
he  frisked  around  to  the  other  side  of  the  table 
as  if  the  little  box  itself  could  not  be  turned. 
"Why,  it's  your  own  name,"  he  added,  in  great 
surprise. 

"So  it  is,  but  you  didn't  read  it  all;"  and 
Katie  handed  the  box  to  Lily,  pointing  to  the 
inscription,  "  From  Katherine  Stowe  Ashley  to 
Lily  Dart." 

There  was  a  beautiful  handkerchief  with  an 
embroidered  edge  in  it,  and  another  box,  handed 
then  to  Marion,  held  one  just  like  it. 

From  Mrs.  Ashley  Lily  received  a  gold  bangle, 
and  Marion  a  simple  but  extremely  pretty  gold 
and  garnet  breastpin,  which  quite  took  her 
breath  away,  it  seemed  so  magnificent. 

Mr.  Ashley  kept  up  the  farce  of  not  being  able 
to  discover  any  remembrances  for  Katie  till  that 
young  lady  became  quite  impatient.  Then  he 
handed  her  a  carefully  wrapped-up  diary  with 
an  elegant  exterior  and  hopelessly  blank  interior. 
She  received  it  with  a  comical  little  gesture,  for 
it  meant  that  her  mother  expected  her  to  con- 


i/o  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

tinue  the  daily  record  that  she  had  pursued  for 
four  years. 

There  was  a  gold  thimble  for  Katie  from  her 
sister-in-law,  a  bewitching  fan  from  Mrs.  Clifford, 
and  lovely  "  bits  of  travel,"  as  Mr.  Ashley  called 
the  gifts  from  the  absent  sisters  and  brothers, 
who  sent  carvings  from  Sorrento,  silver  from 
Nuremberg,  laces  from  Paris,  and  specialties 
from  other  points  to  all  at  home. 

Then  Mr.  Ashley  ceremoniously  presented  his 
youngest  daughter  with  the  prettiest  pocket-book 
his  researches  among  the  shops  could  unearth. 

"  It  would  have  been  a  diamond  ring,  Katie. 
I  mean  to  say  it  was  a  diamond  ring,"  he  said, 
mournfully,  "  but  your  mother  made  me  take  it 
back  to  Tiffany,  because  you  are  too  young,  she 
says.  So  try  to  get  older,  my  child,  and  I  will 
reward  you  with  precious  stones." 

Katie  laughed  and  admired  her  father's  gift, 
remarking  with  some  philosophy  that  she'd 
rather  have  it  than  a  ring,  for  she  could  have 
the  comfort  of  using  it,  and  if  she  had  had  the 
ring  mamma  would  not  have  let  her  wear  it  till 
she  was  out  of  school. 

"  But  you  haven't  examined  the  lining,"  Mr. 
Ashley  said,  anxiously,  after  nodding  approv- 
ingly at  her  manner  of  receiving  his  gift. 


IN  KATIE'S  HOME.  i/i 

The  "  lining  "  was  a  check,  and  Katie,  seeing 
its  highly  respectable  amount,  flew  at  her  father 
in  a  transport.  He  retreated  before  her  rush  in 
mock  terror,  but  on  being  caught  returned  her 
hug  with  interest,  begging  her  in  a  loud  whisper 
not  to  reveal  the  amount  of  her  check  to  any  one. 

Katie's  good  sense  was  getting  the  better  of 
the  vanity  and  bragging  that  the  girls  at  school 
used  to  find  objectionable  in  her,  and,  true  to 
some  new  resolutions  she  had  been  making,  she 
followed  her  father's  jocose  request  and  told  no 
one  but  her  mother  the  amount  of  her  gift. 

"  I  knew  I  should  get  some  money,"  she  said 
that  night  after  the  girls  had  gone  up  to  her 
room,  "  so  I  ran  pretty  deeply  in  debt  for  things 
for  mamma's  tree  to-morrow." 

"  Another  tree  !  "  exclaimed  the  girls,  in  cho- 
rus. 

"  Same  one  dressed  over  ;  but  wait  and  see. 
It's  twice  the  fun  this  was." 


172  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 


CHAPTER  XXII. 

THE  CHRISTMAS-TREE'S  SECOND  CROP. 

THE  habits  of  even  a  short  life-time  are  not 
easily  changed  ;  so  before  a  single  servant  was 
astir  in  that  luxurious  household  Marion  had 
risen  and  dressed  herself.  Lily  had  no  early- 
rising  habits  to  contend  with,  and  so  slept  peace- 
fully on  till  Adele  came  in  to  say  that  Mrs.  Ashley 
wished  to  know  if  the  young  ladies  required  as- 
sistance in  dressing  and  to  tell  them  breakfast 
would  be  ready  in  half  an  hour. 

Lily  slipped  her  feet  into  a  pair  of  slippers  and 
came  into  Marion's  room  in  a  half-awake  condi- 
tion. 

"  Why,  you  early  bird  !  "  she  exclaimed,  "  I  do 
believe  you  got  up  to  gloat  over  your  new  breast- 
pin." 

Marion  laughed  and  blushed,  for  it  was  true 
that  she  had  been  contemplating  her  first  piece 
of  jewelry  for  a  long  time  with  great  content. 

"  I  envy  you,"  said  Lily,  "  not  the  pin,  but  not 
having  your  '  first  times  '  till  you  were  old  enough 
to  realize  them.  I  thought  of  it  last  night,  when 


THE  CHRISTMAS-TREE'S  SECOND  CROP.  173 

your  eyes  were  shining  like  diamonds  and  you 
looked  like  a  peri  who  had  squeezed  into  Eden 
after  long  shivering  at  the  gate,  like  the  one  in 
Moore's  poems.  Now,  my  dear  little  rosy-round, 
daddy  isn't  frightfully  rich  like  Mr.  Ashley,  but 
then  I've  always  had  more  trinkets  and  things 
than  I  needed,  and  I  don't  begin  to  have  the  fun 
out  of  them  that  you  have  had  already  over  your 
one  poor  little  breastpin." 

"  O,  it  isn't  poor  or  little  !  "  exclaimed  shocked 
Marion.  "  It  is  as  pretty  a  pin  as  any  of  the 
girls  had  at  school." 

"And  you  did  long  for  one,  didn't  you,  poor 
little  kitty  mouse?" 

"  No,  I  didn't,  because  I  didn't  see  how  it  was 
possible  I  could  ever  have  one.  But,  Lily,  you 
wont  be  ready  for  breakfast." 

That  was  a  very  informal  meal  in  the  Ashley 
house,  for  the  family  never  waited  for  the  mis-' 
tress,  who  was  apt  to  breakfast  in  her  own 
room,  and  Mr.  Ashley  was  such  a  restless,  active 
person  that  he  usually  dispatched  his  breakfast 
before  any  one  else  began  and  trotted  off  to  call 
on  his  two  sets  of  grandchildren.  This  morning 
the  three  girls  had  the  table  all  to  themselves, 
and  Marion  was  lost  in  wonder  at  Lily,  who  did 

not  seem  in  the  least  awed  by  the  solemn  butler, 
12 


i/4  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

who  seemed  to  her  to  be  the  most  scornful  and 
disapproving  looking  gentleman  she  had  ever 
seen ;  and  when  Katie,  with  the  courage  of  a 
lion-tamer,  calmly  sent  him  down-stairs  because 
they  wanted  to  discuss  a  private  matter  she 
almost  looked  for  an  earthquake  to  happen  next. 

The  private  matter  was  a  present  Mrs.  Ashley 
wished  to  make  to  Mrs.  Abbott  and  was  going 
to  leave  to  the  three  girls  to  select  and  present 
as  an  offering  from  themselves.  The  discussion 
seemed  interminable,  and  was  still  in  full  tide 
when  Mr.  Ashley  came  in,  rubbing  his  hands  and 
crying  "  Merry  Christmas !  "  to  them. 

"  Here  are  sweets  to  the  sweet,"  he  continued, 
handing  them  each  a  two-pound  box  of  Huyler's 
very  best,  "  and  here  are  charms  to  the  charmers 
and  gloves  to  the  gloveless ;  "  and  with  chuckles 
of  delight  he  arranged  the  packages  in  front  of 
the  girls,  walking  around  the  table  and  rubbing 
his  hands  gleefully  while  they  unwrapped  and 
explored.  Every  thing  was  alike  in  each  instance. 
Two  pairs  of  gloves  apiece — extra  length,  he  ex- 
plained, solemnly,  because  the  tops  could  be  used 
to  resole  the  bottoms.  The  "  charms  "  were  lovely 
silver  chatelaines,  with  smelling-bottle,  bon-bon 
box,  and  other  hanging  appurtenances ;  and  the 
girls  uttered  their  approbation  in  little  screams  of 


THE  CHRISTMAS-TREE'S  SECOND  CROP.  175 

delight,  in  the  midst  of  which  Mr.  Ashley  put  his 
hands  over  his  ears  and  ran  out  of  the  room. 

"  And  the  best  of  papa's  Christmas  morning 
gifts  is  that  he  don't  mind  your  giving  them 
away  to  somebody  else  if  you  want.  He  wouldn't 
forgive  any  one  who  parted  with  Christmas-tree 
things,  but  these  have  no  sentiment,  he  says." 

"  There'll  be  no  danger  of  my  parting  with 
these  glorious  gloves,"  said  Lily.  "  I  never  had 
any  a  mile  long  before.  And  do  see  Marion. 
She's  regarding  hers  with  such  reverence  that  I 
expect  to  see  her  swing  incense  in  front  of  them 
in  a  minute.  I  believe  she  likes  them  better 
than  her  lovely  chatelaine." 

"  O,  no,  but  I  can  wear  the  gloves." 

"  Well,  I  suppose  papa  thought  you  could ; 
but  can't  you  wear  the  chatelaine  too?" 

"  It  seems  too  fine  for  me,  with  the  kind  of 
clothes  I  wear." 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,"  said  Katie,  hurriedly,  to 
avoid  noticing  Marion's  embarrassment,  "  we'll 
go  around  to  the  Gorham  to-morrow  right  after 
breakfast  and  change  off  that  chatelaine  for  other 
things.  I  know  you're  such  a  silly  goose  that 
you'd  rather  have  a  half-dozen  trinkets  to  give 
away  than  this." 

It  \vas  worth  something  to  see  the  pleasure  in 


i/6  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

Marion's  face  at  this  suggestion  ;  but  Lily  did  not 
give  her  time  to  say  any  thing,  for  she  sprang  up 
and  gave  Katie  a  hug  and  resounding  kiss,  with 
an  emphatic  declaration  that  she  was  the  dearest 
girl  that  ever  lived. 

"And  we'll  give  her  our  votes  for  the  Bellamy 
prize,  wont  we,  though?"  she  said  to  Marion,  as 
she  resumed  her  seat. 

Adele  came  in  then  with  a  request  from  Mrs, 
Ashley  that  they  would  not  fatigue  themselves  in 
their  morning  amusements,  as  she  depended  upon 
them  to  entertain  her  guests  at  her  Christmas- 
tree  from  four  to  six  in  the  afternoon. 

The  drawing-room  was  mysteriously  closed; 
and  when,  at  the  appointed  hour,  the  girls  went 
in  with  Mrs.  Ashley  they  found  it  greatly  changed 
from  the  night  before.  The  tree  was  equally 
well  filled,  but  with  gifts  of  a  widely  different 
character,  and  by  its  side  and  behind  it  stood 
tables  strangely  loaded.  One  was  covered  with 
stout  shoes ;  another  held  a  pyramid  of.  bundles, 
each  bearing  a  small  placard.  The  third  table, 
longer  and  wider  than  the  others,  was  loaded 
with  hats  and  caps. 

The  room  was  lighted  with  gas,  which  seemed 
to  have  a  bewildering  effect  upon  the  twenty 
guests  who  now  began  to  arrive.  The  sudden 


THE  CHRISTMAS-TREE'S  SECOND  CROP.  177 

change  from  daylight,  or  else  the  splendor  of 
the  brilliant  tree,  made  each  girl  as  she  en- 
tered rub  her  eyes  and  look  helplessly  about  for 
an  instant.  They  were  the  members  of  Mrs. 
Ashley's  class  in  the  mission  school,  and  every 
year  she  entertained  them  in  this  way. 

Katie  and  Lily  did  their  best  to  make  the 
company  feel  at  home ;  but  perhaps  there  was  a 
tiny  bit  of  condescension  in  their  efforts,  for  the 
girls  seemed  shy  and  afraid  to  converse  ;  but  with 
Marion  it  was  different.  She  knew  by  her  own 
experience  how  embarrassing  it  was  to  step  from 
the  surroundings  of  poverty  into  unaccustomed 
elegance,  and  the  lessons  she  had  learned  made 
her  know  what  to  say  to  these  shy,  awkward 
strangers  to  make  them  feel  comfortable  and  at 
home. 

The  guests  were  all  gathered  at  last  and  seated 
where  their  eager  eyes  could  feast  upon  the  ever- 
fertile  tree,  as  Lily  called  it.  Then,  from  behind 
the  portieres,  appeared  Santa  Claus,  smothered 
in  furs.  His  long  white  beard  indicated  great 
age,  but  his  agile  and  jerky  method  of  skip- 
ping about  contradicted  the  venerable  effect. 
His  pockets  were  puffed  out  and  he  carried  a 
loaded  pannier  on  his  back. 

Taking  his  station  with  his  back  to  the  mantel, 


178  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

Santa  Claus  waved  his  sealskin-gloved  hands 
toward  the  company,  saying,  "  Class,  please  to 
rise;"  whereupon  the  guests  all  stood  up,  Katie 
and  her  friends  also  rising. 

"  If  any  one  present,"  continued  Santa  Claus, 
whisking  up  to  the  tree  and  back  again  to  his 
place,  "  wishes  a  share  in  these  gifts,  will  she 
kindly  signify  it  by  saying  '  I  would  ?' ' 

Such  an  animated  chorus  of  "  I  woulds  "  arose 
then  that  Santa  Claus  put  his  hands  over  his  ears. 

"  Please  don't  all  speak  at  once  next  time,"  he 
said.  "  Now,  head  of  the  class,  tell  me  which  were 
made  first,  cats  or  kittens?  What,  don't  know? 
Next,  then.  You  don't  know  either?  nor  you? 
Why,  who  does  know  ?  " 

All  the  class  were  giggling  and  nudging  each 
other  in  great  amusement,  and  at  the  last  ques- 
tion one  girl  called  out  "  Cats  !  "  and  sank  back 
upon  a  chair  in  a  paroxysm  of  half-nervous 
laughter. 

"  Wrong,"  said  Santa  Claus,  severely.  "  You 
know  every  cat  has  to  be  a  kitten  first.  Try 
again." 

"  Kittens !  "  screamed  the  whole  class  in  con- 
cert. 

"  O,  what  an  ill-taught  class  !  "  said  Santa  Claus, 
looking  around  slyly  at  Mrs.  Ashley.  "  I  should 


THE  CHRISTMAS-TREE'S  SECOND  CROP.  179 

think  you'd  know  there  couldn't  be  kittens  with- 
out cats  for  mothers." 

"  Which  of  em  was  made  first  then  ?"  said  the 
boldest  member  of  the  class ;  but  the  others 
pounced  on  her  and  called  out,  "  For  shame, 
'Lizy  Maria !  "  so  vigorously  that  she  was  com- 
pletely crushed. 

"  You  must  ask  your  teacher,"  said  Santa 
Claus,  politely,  beginning  to  unload  his  pockets 
and  hand  out  blue,  scarlet,  and  brown  mittens — 
a  pair  for  each  girl.  "  And  as  you  have  such 
strange  ideas  of  cats  and  kittens,  here  are  some 
articles  to  refresh  your  memories  about  them  ; " 
and  by  some  dexterous  gymnastics  he  freed 
himself  from  the  large  sack  or  pannier  that  orna- 
mented his  back  and  poured  its  load  of  muffs 
upon  the  floor.  There  was  one  for  each  girl, 
and  they  were  quickly  picked  up  and  appropri- 
ated at  the  word  of  command. 

Then  there  was  a  general  distribution  of  the 
useful  gifts  upon  the  table  and  of  those  upon  the 
tree,  which  were  prettier  if  less  useful,  being  lit- 
tle books,  work-baskets,  photograph  frames,  and 
other  trifles,  such  as  girls  without  pocket-money 
prize. 

There  were  some  merry  games  then  in  which 
Katie  and  her  friends  took  part,  and  then  the 


i8o  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

twenty  happy  visitors  took  their  gifts  home  with 
beaming  faces  and  grateful  hearts. 

"  It  may  pall  upon  your  fancy,  my  Marion,"  said 
Lily  that  night  when  they  were  undressing,  "  but 
for  the  fiftieth  time  I  must  repeat  my  conviction 
that  these  Ashleys  deserve  their  wealth." 

"  O,  they  do,"  assented  Marion,  enthusiastic- 
ally, "  and  Katie  grows  nicer  every  day." 

"  Yes,  Katie's  getting  gooder  and  gooder  all 
the  time,  as  little  Elfie  says,  bless  her  heart !  " 


THE  LETTER  ix  CIPHER.  181 


CHAPTER  XXIII. 

THE  LETTER  IN  CIPHER. 

"  '  SCHOOL  again,  school  again, 

From  a  foreign  shore  ! 
And  O,  it  fills  my  heart  with  pain 

TO  see  its  walls  once  more  ! '  " 

sang  Lily,  with  mock  pathos,  as  the  stage,  with 
its  lively  load  of  girls,  drove  up  to  the  front  door, 
where  Mrs.  Abbott  and  Elfie  smiled  a  cordial 
welcome. 

"  There's  not  a  word  of  truth  in  that  lament, 
Mrs.  Abbott,  my  dear,"  said  Lily,  as  she  folded 
her  teacher  in  a  fervent  hug,  "for  I'm  awfully, 
awful  glad  to  get  back." 

"  So  am  I,"  said  Katie. 

"And  you,  dear?"  said  Mrs.  Abbott,  smiling 
at  Marion,  who  could  not  easily  release  herself 
from  Elfie's  embrace  of  joyful  welcome. 

"  It  is  coming  home  to  me,"  answered  Marion, 
with  glowing  face. 

"  Have  you  had  a  pleasant  visit  ?  " 

"  O,  so  delightful !  May  I  come  to  your  room 
to-night  and  tell  you  about  it?" 

"  Indeed  you  may." 


1 82  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  May  I  hear  the  history  too?"  said  Mr.  Eaton, 
just  appearing  from  the  library. 

The  girls  pounced  upon  him  then,  dragging 
him  into  the  school-room  and  asking  a  flood  of 
questions  and  begging  hard  for  the  promise  of  a 
story  after  tea.  He  gave  the  promise  readily, 
but  it  was  not  fulfilled,  for  an  hour  later  a  tele- 
gram summoned  him  away  upon  business  that 
could  not  be  delayed. 

"  I  don't  understand  why  every  body  has  to  be 
in  the  dumps  just  because  Mr.  Eaton  had  to  go 
away,"  said  Edna,  discontentedly,  that  evening. 

"  Because  he's  a  joy  forever,"  said  Lily,  "  and 
with  him  here  the  next  two  or  three  days  of  set- 
tling down  to  work  would  be  just  fun.  Now 
they'll  be  deeply,  d'arkly,  beautifully  blue ;  wont 
they,  Kit?" 

"Yes;  the  first  days  are  generally  poky,"  said 
Katie,  preparing  to  record  her  arrival  in  her  new 
diary. 

"We  can  have  fun  enough,"  said  Edna,  "if 
Mrs.  Abbott  wont  be  too  strait-laced  and  anti- 
quated to  let  us." 

"  How,  for  instance  ?  " 

"  There's  a  circus  coming.  I  saw  the  bills 
posted  up  at  the  station,"  replied  Edna — "  lions 
and  bears,  and  a  four-armed  man,  and  a  man  with 


THE  LETTER  IN  CIPHER.  183 

no  arms  at  all  who  takes  your  picture  with  his 
toes,  and  lots  of  jolly  things." 

"  They  wont  do  us  any  good,"  said  Bell  Bur- 
goyne,  "  for,  you  know,  Mrs.  Abbott  disapproves 
of  circuses." 

"  Well,  they  are  low,"  said  Edna,  "  but  I  think 
it  would  be  fun  to  go  to  one  of  the  side-shows, 
as  they  call  them,  and  have  our  fortunes  told  by 
the  Egyptian  sphinx." 

"  O,  I've  seen  a  picture  of  that  kind  of  being. 
It's  just,  a  young  woman  with  an  elaborately 
frizzed  head  and  a  handsome  face,  and  nothing 
else  except  a  small  section  of  throat,"  explained 
Lily.  "  She  perches  lightly  on  a  wash-stand  and 
answers  questions,  I  believe." 

"  But  how  can  she  talk  without  any  arms  and 
legs?"  said  Louie  Field,  skeptically. 

"  Unless  she  uses  the  sign  language  of  the 
deaf  and  dumb,  I  think  limbs  and  members 
would  be  less  indispensable  than  lungs,"  said 
Lily.  "But  I  don't  understand,  so  I  can't  ex- 
plain." 

"  It's  some  kind  of  clap-trap,"  said  Edna. 
"  I've  read  how  it's  done.  There's  looking-glass 
fronts  and  curtains  and  things,  you  know." 

"  What  a  beautifully  clear  explanation  !  "  said 
Lily. 


1 84  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVK. 

"  I'd  just  love  to  have  my  fortune  told,"  said 
Katie. 

"  You  couldn't  understand  her.  Probably  she's 
a  real,  genuine,  imported  sphinx.  Speaks  no  En- 
glish— nothing  but  Pyramid,"  Lily  said,  mock- 
ingly. 

"There's  no  such  language  as  Pyramid,  is 
there?"  asked  Katie,  rather  doubtfully. 

"  Well,  then,  she'd  speak  the  tongue  of  the 
Ptolemies,  whatever  that  was,  and  you  couldn't 
understand  it.  But,  no  matter  what  she  speaks, 
you  are  not  likely  to  see  her." 

The  matter  was  dropped  then,  but  the  next 
morning  when  Mrs.  Abbott  took  her  seat  to  open 
school  she  found  a  yard-long  pictorial  advertise- 
ment of  the  circus  laid  ^conspicuously  on  the 
desk.  On  its  margin  was  written,  "  Please  take 
us,"  on  reading  which  she  shook  her  head 
gravely. 

"I  have  had  such  requests  before,"  she  said, 
severely,  "  and  all  but  the  latest  comers  know 
how  thoroughly  I  disapprove  of  circuses  and  all 
such  exhibitions." 

She  looked  grave  and  displeased,  and  the  girls, 
discussing  the  matter  afterward,  were  very  indig- 
nant at  Edna,  who  had  put  the  play-bill  on  the 
desk  without  their  knowledge.  She  defended 


THE  LETTER  IN  CIPHER.  185 

herself  rather  crossly,  and  a  quarrel  seemed  in- 
evitable ;  but  Elfie,  coming  in  with  a  book  for 
Katie,  made  a  diversion. 

"  Is  you  most  crying  'cause  you  can't  go  to  see 
the  efalumps  and  the  big,  big  bears?"  she  asked, 
looking  at  Edna  curiously. 

"No,  indeed,"  replied  Edna,  loftily;  "  but  I 
should  like  to  have  my  fortune  told  by  the 
sphinx." 

"Auntie  Abbott  says  the  spazinx  in  that 
picture  isn't  a  real  spazinx,"  said  Elfie,  consol- 
ingly. 

They  all  laughed  so  at  her  remarkable  pronun- 
ciation that  her  small  head  was  tossed  up  with 
much  dignity,  and  she  said,  with  some  asperity: 

"  It  is  not  a  bit  ladified  for  folks  to  laugh  at 
other  folks's  pronouncements.  My  Marion  never 
laughs  when  I  says  my  words  wrong." 

Edna  repressed  the  sneering  remark  she  was 
ready  to  utter,  for  no  one  was  allowed  to  say 
one  word  in  dispraise  of  Marion  before  Elfie, 
who  had  been  more  than  ever  her  champion 
since  the  affair  of  the  poem.  And  Edna,  to  do 
her  justice,  was  really  very  fond  of  Elfie,  and 
immediately  tried  to  propitiate  her  by  making  a 
boat  out  of  writing-paper,  which  the  happy 
child  carried  off  to  sail  in  her  basin.  There  she 


1 86  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

left  it,  with  a  freight  of  small  paper  dolls,  when 
Candace  called  her  to  go  out  for  a  walk,  and 
Marion,  whose  early  training  made  tidiness  a 
habit,  carefully  threw  away  the  water,  wiped  out 
the  basin,  put  the  paper  boat  in  the  window  to 
dry,  and,  picking  up  a  work-basket,  sat  down 
with  it  in  her  lap  and  began  to  darn  a  stocking 
of  Elfie's  as  a  pleasant  surprise  for  Candace. 

As  she  worked,  saying  over  a  list  of  Roman 
emperors  to  make  sure  she  had  them  at  her 
tongue's  end,  some  of  the  blurred  characters  in 
the  little  boat  caught  her  attention,  and  she  care- 
fully unfolded  it,  finding,  as  she  suspected,  that 
it  was  a  note  written  in  cipher.  Having  had 
permission  to  read  all  she  could,  she  amused 
herself  by  deciphering  the  curious  words  and 
writing  them  down  on  a  bit  of  paper. 

A  part  of  the  note  was  torn,  but  enough  was 
left  to  make  Marion  very  uncomfortable.  It 
was  written  to  Edna  by  Addie  Mason,  a  rather 
delicate  girl  who  lived  in  the  village,  and  who 
came  in  to  school  every  day  for  only  two  or  three 
studies.  She  had  become  very  popular  with  the 
S.  C.'s  and  had  been  frequently  invited  to  their 
secret  meetings,  and  the  mysterious  cipher  had 
been  explained  to  her.  She  was  immensely  flat- 
tered by  all  this  privilege,  although  she  knew 


THE  LETTER  IN  CIPHER.  187 

her  admittance  to  fellowship  was  owing  to  her 
usefulness  in  bringing  purchases  of  maple-sugar, 
candy,  crackers,  and  raisins,  and  other  such  com- 
modities as  could  be  purchased  at  the  country 
store,  which  the  girls  were  not  allowed  to  visit 
except  by  especial  permission,  and  that  was 
rarely  accorded. 

The  cipher  letter,  after  Marion  copied  it  upon 
a  fresh  piece  of  paper,  read  thus  : 

"  DRDN :  mdmbltt  syssh  wllnt  cmt  thbck 
gtnlss  ywll  brnglf  tsh  syssh  cnfnd  smbrd  mnyby 
pttngdvnng  rdn  blndchlds  hndtht  swht  shs 
wntdfr.  gthr  wyfrm  mrnnd  cndcnd  brnghr 
Ingn  nwll  vrknw.  DDMSN." 

It  was  not  a  difficult  cipher  to  read  when  you 
knew  how — simply  a  leaving  out  of  all  the 
vowels  and  writing  every  consecutive  pair  of 
words  together.  But,  as  some  of  the  girls  who 
had  tried  to  read  specimens  of  it  said,  "  it  looked 
too  heathenish  for  United  States  folks  to  read." 
Abolishing  capitals  also  added  to  its  obscurity. 

The  translation,  after  Marion  had  puzzled  it 
out  and  written  it  down  in  legible  English,  was  : 

"  DEAR  EDNA  :  Madame  Belotti  says  she  will 
not  come  to  the  back  gate  unless  you  will  bring 


1 88  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

Elfie  too.  She  says  she  can  find  some  buried 
money  by  putting  a  divining-rod  in  a  blonde 
child's  hand.  That  is  what  she  is  wanted  for. 
Get  her  away  from  Marion  and  Candace  and 
bring  her  along  ;  no  one  will  ever  know. 

"  ADDIE  MASON." 

"  That's  what  you  get  for  meddling,  miss," 
Marion  said  to  herself,  as,  having  made  the  copies 
and  torn  them  up,  she  refolded  the  boat  and  ap- 
plied herself  again  to  the  stockings  and  the  Ro- 
man emperors. 

"  Caligula,  Claudius,  Nero,"  she  continued,  not 
conscious  she  was  speaking  aloud.  I  do  hope 
she  wont  do  it.  Galba,  Otho,  Vitellius.  O, 
dear,  I  do  hope  she  wont." 

"Wont  what,  you  funny  old  thing?"  asked 
Lily,  looking  in  at  the  door. 

Fora  moment  Marion  was  tempted  to  tell  her 
about  the  note  she  had  read' and  beg  her  to  pre- 
vent Edna's  taking  Elfie  outside  of  the  gate,  but 
she  knew  her  interference  might  be  resented,  and 
Lily  was  so  intolerant  of  tale-telling  that  she 
did  not  want  to  seem  guilty  of  it  ;  so  she  parried 
the  question  and  begged  her  to  take  the  list 
she  had  copied  from  her  history  and  see  if  she 
could  say  the  Roman  emperors  correctly. 


THE  LETTER  IN  CIPHER.  189 

"  Perfect,"  said  Lily,  when  she  had  done  ; 
"  but  you  always  do  say  every  thing  perfectly. 
And  now  tell  me  what  is  bothering  you,  Molly 
Ann.  You  looked  when  I  came  in  as  though 
you  had  the  weight  of  the  world  on  your  shoul- 
ders." 

But  no  coaxing  would  persuade  the  girl  to  tell, 
although  she  longed  to  talk  about  her  discovery 
with  some  one.  Of  course  she  could  not  tell 
Mrs.  Abbott.  The  school-girls'  code  of  honor 
forbade  that  ;  but  she  resolved  to  watch  Elfie 
closely  and  prevent  her,  if  possible,  from  being 
taken  out  of  the  gate,  and  if  she  could  not  do 
that  to  follow  her  herself,  no  matter  how  much 

her  doing  so  might  offend  the  girls. 
13 


190  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 


CHAPTER    XXIV. 

CATCHING     A     TRAIN. 

LATE  that  night  Marion,  lying  awake  to 
worry  over  the  letter  she  had  read,  heard  the 
heavy  rumble  of  the  circus  vans  on  their  way  out 
of  town  to  the  distant  place  where  their  next 
public  appearance  was  to  be  made.  All  her 
trouble  ended  with  the  welcome  sound,  for  now 
there  would  be  no  meeting  with  the  sphinx,  and 
Elfie  would  not  be  tempted  to  go  outside  the 
gates  ;  so  the  honest  eyes  closed  in  sleep  that 
lasted  undisturbed  till  the  "  wake-up  "  bell  re- 
sounded through  the  halls. 

Candace  had  again  succumbed  to  the  rheuma- 
tism, so  Marion  dressed  Elfie  and  took  her 
down  to  breakfast  and  kept  her  by  her  side  till 
the  prayer-bell  rang.  Then  Katie  pounced  upon 
her,  it  being  her  week,  and  Marion  did  not 
see  her  again  except  across  the  school-room. 

At  twelve  o'clock  recess  began,  at  one  the 
girls  dined,  and  at  two  o'clock  school  began 
again,  and  lasted  till  half  past  three.  The  hour 
before  dinner  was  devoted,  in  rainy  weather,  to 


CATCHING  A  TRAIN.  191 

gymnastics  in  the  large  garret  fitted  up  with 
various  mechanical  contrivances  for  physical  cult- 
ure, but  in  pleasant  weather  the  girls  walked, 
ran,  or  played  either  in  the  grove  behind  the 
house,  the  meadow  on  the  left,  or  the  tennis-court 
and  croquet-ground  on  the  other  side.  Beyond 
the  fence  which  defined  these  ample  grounds  no 
one  was  allowed  to  go  without  permission,  even 
though,  as  sometimes  happened,  grace-hoop,  shut- 
tlecock, or  ball  perversely  flew  over  the  fence. 

On  this  day  Mrs.  Abbott  called  Marion  to 
her  immediately  after  the  twelve-o'clock  bell 
rang. 

"  My  dear,"  she  said,  "  I  shall  have  to  ask  you 
to  do  me  a  favor.  I  have  here  a  check  for  fifty 
dollars  which  I  need  to  have  cashed  immediately. 
Will  you  take  it  for  me  to  the  bank  at  the  vil- 
lage and  bring  me  the  money  ?  It  is  a  long 
walk,  but  I  know  you  don't  mind  that.  To  save 
time  and  insure  your  getting  back  in  time  for 
dinner  I  would  send  you  in  the  phaeton,  but  my 
pony  has  lamed  himself.  But  I  will  have  your 
dinner  kept  warm  for  you." 

"  O,  that  is  nothing,"  said  Marion.  "  I'd  as 
lief  go  without  any  dinner,  and,  if  you  don't 
mind,  I'll  go  through  the  back  gate,  it's  so  much 
shorter." 


192  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  Yes,  you  may  do  so.  The  key  to  the  pad- 
lock hangs,  as  usual,  behind  the  hat-rack." 

The  carriage  road  to  the  village  led  past  the 
front  of  the  house  and  twisted  and  turned  several 
ways,  most  obligingly  winding  by  various  farm- 
houses, but  a  shorter  cut  across  the  fields  could 
be  reached  by  going  through  a  little  gate  at  the 
end  of  the  thick  grove  behind  the  house.  The 
road  thus  grained  led  to  the  station  and  then  on 
to  the  village,  but  a  path  across  the  fields 
avoided  the  station  and  intersected  the  road 
again  further  on. 

"  I'd  be  fidgety  now  if  the  circus  had  stayed 
over  to-day,  for,  with  Candace  sick,  there'd  be  no 
one  to  keep  Elfie  from  going  out  with  the  girls 
to  get  their  fortunes  told,"  thought  Marion. 

But  the  circus  had  gone  and  she  went  on 
gayly,  rather  pleased  with  the  errand  and  think- 
ing nothing  of  the  two-miles'  walk  to  the  village. 

Just  beyond  the  path  that  led  off  from  the 
road  stood  a  carriage  with  two  showy  young 
women  in  it  talking  with  a  young  man  who  had 
apparently  just  met  them  as  Marion  came  in 
sight.  There  was  something  odd  about  their 
appearance,  and  the  girl  had  curiosity  enough  to 
watch  them  for  a  moment  as  she  stood  sheltered 
behind  a  screen  of  wild  grape-vine  that  almost 


CATCHING  A  TRAIN.  193 

hid  the  entrance  to  the  path.  The  party  were 
whispering,  so  there  was  nothing  for  her  to  hear 
even  had  she  been  nearer ;  but  their  presence  in 
that  quiet  place  seemed  strange. 

In  a  moment  the  women  jumped  out  of  the 
carriage  and  the  young  man  took  a  seat  in  it, 
saying  in  a  raised  voice,  probably  for  the  driver's 
benefit  : 

"  Well,  don't  stay  long  with  your  old  friend,  or 
you'll  miss  the  1:15  train,  and  there's  no  other 
till  6:35.  We'll  drive  around  a  while  and  be 
waiting  for  you  here.  Now,  look  sharp  and  keep 
your  wits  about  you." 

Perhaps  they  were  going  to  see  the  servants 
at  Mrs.  Abbott's,  Marion  thought,  as  she  walked 
on,  feeling  troubled  she  hardly  knew  why ;  but 
if  so,  why  not  have  driven  around  to  the  front 
gate,  from  which  the  kitchen  was  reached  by  a 
side  path ;  but,  after  all,  it  was  none  of  her  busi- 
ness, she  told  herself  as  she  trudged  along. 

There  was  not  much  delay  at  the  bank,  and 
Marion,  feeling  rather  important,  and  somewhat 
anxious  about  the  safety  of  the  roll  of  bills, 
started  for  home.  It  would  be  so  terrible  to 
have  any  thing  happen  to  such  a  lot  of  money 
that  she  hardly  knew  what  to  do  with  it.  Mrs. 
Abbott  had  given  her  an  old  purse  to  put  it  in, 


194  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

but  she  thought  as  she  went  along  of  all  the 
stories  she  had  heard  of  highway  robbery,  so  she 
took  it  out  of  her  purse  and  tucked  it  into  the 
bosom  of  her  dress.  After  a  few  minutes  the 
dread  came  that  some  tramp  might  demand  her 
money  or  her  life,  and  then  there 'd  be  a  scuffle, 
and  in  the  scuffle  her  dress  might  be  torn  to 
pieces  and  the  bills  fall  out  ;  so  back  into  her 
pocket  they  went,  then  into  her  dress  waist 
again.  Then  an  inspiration  seized  her  and  she 
divided  the  bundle  of  bills,  of  which  there  were 
six  fives  and  two  tens,  and  wound  them  around 
each  ankle  under  her  stockings.  There  they 
seemed  quite  safely  concealed  even  if  they  de- 
tracted from  the  symmetry  of  the  ankles,  and 
Marion  walked  comfortably  on  with  the  empty 
purse  held  conspicuously  in  her  hand,  having  a 
little  plan  in  her  mind  of  flinging  it  far  from  her 
in  the  event  of  an  attack  from  highway  robbers, 
and,  while  they  were  dashing  after  it,  taking  to 
her  heels  and  escaping  with  her  stocking-pro- 
tected treasure. 

There  never  had  been  a  highway  robbery  in 
the  neighborhood,  but  a  course  of  promiscuous 
reading  had  given  Marion  a  realization  that 
such  things  could  happen,  and  she  went  on  with 
almost  an  expectation  of  some  adventure. 


CATCHING  A  TRAIN.  195 

As  she  neared  the  point  where  the  path  struck 
into  the  carriage  road  she  heard  a  sound  of  rapid 
wheels,  and,  running  to  the  vine-covered  tree  and 
peering  through  the  leaves,  she  saw,  as  she 
thought  probable,  the  carnage  she  had  seen  as 
she  went  upon  her  errand.  The  driver  was  not 
there,  but  the  young  man  who  promised  to  wait 
for  the  women  sat  upon  the  front  seat  and  was 
urging  the  horses  to  their  utmost  speed.  One 
of  the  women  was  by  his  side  ;  the  other  sat 
upon  the  back  seat  with  a  child  in  her  arms. 

It  was  Elfie ! 

How  she  could  have  recognized  her  in  that 
one  quick  glance  through  the  leaves  Marion 
could  not  have  told,  but  she  was  sure  of  it.  It 
flashed  upon  her  then  that  these  people  must 
have  been  employed  to  steal  her,  and  now  they 
had  succeeded  ! 

Where  were  they  going?  To  the  station  to 
catch  the  1:15  express.  Perhaps  she  could  get 
there  in  time  to  stop  them  ;  any  body  would 
assist  her,  for  Mrs.  Abbott  was  well  known. 

Fences  and  rough  places  were  no  obstacles  to 
a  sturdy  little  mountaineer ;  so,  straight  as  a  bird 
flies,  Marion  tore  across  country,  leaving  bits  of 
her  dress  upon  the  strong  cat-briers,  and  not 
stopping  to  pick  up  her  hat  when  it  dropped  from 


196  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

her  head  as  she  half  jumped,  half  tumbled  over  a 
fence.  She  forgot  her  anxiety  about  the  money 
as  she  flew  along,  panting  and  half  crying,  but 
still  gasping  over  and  over  a  fervent  prayer: 

"  O,  Lord,  help  me  to  save  Elfie  !  Help  me, 
help  me !  " 

The  platform  and  station  buildings  were  on 
the  other  side  of  the  track,  and  as  Marion  flew 
along  over  a  hill  she  caught  a  glimpse  of  the 
carriage  whirling  across  the  track  and  driving 
behind  the  building.  The  sight  made  her  run 
faster,  if  that  were  possible,  but  the  chase  seemed 
hopeless,  for  even  then  the  whistle  sounded  and 
the  engine  came  in  sight  around  the  curve,  slow- 
ing up  as  it  neared  its  stopping-place. 

But  even  though  she  thought  it  too  late  she  ran 
on,  the  prayer  again  bursting  in  agony  from  her 
lips,  and  love  and  fear  seemed  almost  to  give  her 
wings.  Without  pausing  to  listen,  she  heard  all 
the  familiar  sounds  that  attend  a  train's  arrival 
and  departure.  Just  after  an  "  all  aboard  "  from 
the  conductor  the  long  train  began  to  push  slowly 
off,  gaining  speed  as  it  moved  till,  as  she  burst 
from  a  thicket  and  plunged  through  a  narrow  run 
of  waste  water  that  followed  the  track  for  a  few 
rods,  the  last  car  was  spinning  by  her. 

Without  a  breath  of  hesitation  she  seized  the 


CATCHING  A  TRAIN.  197 

iron  rod  at  the  end  in  her  strong  little  grasp  and 
flung  herself  against  the  steps,  bruising  herself 
sadly,  but  clinging  on. 

After  a  few  moments  spent  in  collecting  her- 
self and  recovering  from  her  efforts  the  brave 
girl  drew  herself  up  from  the  car-steps  to  the 
platform,  and,  gazing  back  at  the  woods  which 
seemed  to  close  behind  them  as  they  sped  along, 
tried  to  form  some  plan  of  action.  No  one  at 
the  station  could  have  seen  her  spring  upon  the 
cars;  so  there  would  be  no  one  to  tell  Mrs.  Ab- 
bott what  had  become  of  her.  Then,  after  all, 
what  certainty  had  she  that  Elfie  was  upon  the 
cars  ?  Perhaps  hers  had  been  a  wild-goose  chase. 
She  was  positive  that  Elfie  was  in  the  carriage, 
but  perhaps  they  had  not  taken  her  on  the  cars. 
They  might  have  been  afraid  and  left  her  at  the 
station,  or  they  might  be  still  waiting  there  for  the 
down-train  which  went  through  half  an  hour  later. 

Then  the  horrible  thought  came  that  if  Elfie 
was  safe,  and  no  one  knew  what  had  become  of 
her,  wouldn't  Mrs.  Abbott  think  she  had  run 
away  with  the  fifty  dollars  ? 

The  agony  of  that  idea  was  too  dreadful. 
Poor  Marion  threw  herself  down  on  the  platform, 
and,  burying  her  scratched,  flaming  face  in  her 
hands,  sobbed  dolefully. 


198  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

THE   SPHINX. 

THE  morning  after  the  circus  had  left  the 
town,  as  the  older  girls  were  going  into  one  of 
the  smaller  recitation-rooms  to  the  English  lit- 
erature class,  Edna  whispered  to  Addie  in  the 
five  minutes  that  were  always  allowed  on  every 
change  of  room : 

"  Hasn't  the  circus  gone?  " 

"  Yes;  went  last  night." 

"  And  now  we  can't  have  our  fortunes  told  !  " 

"Yes,  you  can,  for  Madame  Belotti  hasn't 
gone." 

"O,  good!  " 

"I  thought  you'd  be  glad,  and  she  and  her 
sister  have  promised  to  come  up  to  the  grove 
by  the  back  gate  at  twelve  o'clock.  Of  course 
she  can't  be  fixed  up  as  a  sphinx,  because  her 
rigging  had  to  go  off  in  the  vans.  She's  great 
fun  any  way ;  for  one  thing  she  can  give  you 
lucky  numbers.  But  she  wants  Elfie  to  come. 
She  says  she  saw  her  once  when  you  all  walked 
to  the  village,  and  she  says  there's  something 


THE  SPHINX.  199 

uncommon  in  her  eyes  that  shows  she's  got 
second  sight." 

"I  don't  know  as  we  can  bring  Elfie,  and  I 
don't  believe  she  ever  saw  her,  either." 

"Then  we'd  better  stay  away  ourselves,  for 
Madame  Belotti  will  get  out  of  temper  and  not 
tell  us  any  thing." 

"  Well,  we  must  manage  it  somehow,  but  I 
do  wish  I  could  have  seen  madame  as  a  sphinx." 

"  Yes,  that  was  a  real  good  rig,  but  she's  a 
Spanish  gypsy,  and  she  can  tell  fortunes  just  as 
well  in  a  basque  and  skirt." 

"She  must  have  looked  awfully  funny,"  said 
Edna.  "  I  told  the  girls  I  didn't  care  about 
seeing  her,  but  I  really  did  want  t6  fearfully." 

"She  was  very  well  made  up,"  said  Addie. 
"  All  you  saw  was  just  a  real  head  on  a  table ; 
there  were  books  and  bric-a-brac  and  flowers  on 
the  table,  and  this  head  right  in  the  middle  of 
them.  There  were  curtains  in  front,  and  a  man 
drew  these  on  one  side  to  show  us  there  was  no 
deception,  and  we  seemed  to  be  looking  right 
under  the  table.  Of  course  we  were  not  allowed 
to  step  near." 

"Well,  I  am  determined  to  have  my  fortune 
told,  even  if  I  can't  see  her  as  a  sphinx,"  said 
Edna. 


200  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  I  don't  believe  you  will  get  it  told  unless 
you  bring  Elfie." 

"  I  don't  see  why  she  makes  such  a  point  of 
having  Elfie  come.  It's  going  to  be  a  great 
bother  !  What  did  she  say  about  it,  anyway  ?  " 

"  Well,  I  guess  it  is  only  some  superstitious 
idea  of  hers  about  numbers.  She  told  me  a  lot 
of  stuff  about  a  large  sum  of  money  she  could 
get  if  she  had  a  certain  number,  and  the  way  to 
get  the  lucky  number  is  to  get  a  blonde  orphan 
girl  under  six  years  old  to  be  blindfolded  and 
draw  it  out  of  a  hundred  others  in  a  box." 

"  O,  what  stuff!  "  said  Edna.  "  That's  all 
bosh." 

"I  suppose  *it  is;  but  she's  awfully  stubborn, 
and  says  she  wont  come  out  at  all  if  she  can't 
have  such  a  little  thing  as  that  done  to  oblige 
her." 

"  Well,  it  was  kind  of  nice  in  them  to  stay  a 
day  after  the  circus  just  for  us,  but  I  don't  see 
how  it's  to  be  managed.  Candace  is  sick,  that's 
one  good  thing;  but  that  sneaky  Mary  Ann 
Stubbs  is  her  guardian  fiend  and  would  tell  of 
us  quick  as  a  wink  if  she  saw  us  taking  the  child 
out  of  the  yard." 

"  I  don't  think  Marion  is  given  to  tale-telling," 
said  Addie,  significantly,  and  Edna  had  the 


THE  SPHINX.  201 

grace  to  color  with  shame  at  the  memory  of  her 
own  meanness  in  that  matter  of  the  composition 
when  Marion  refused  to  tell  of  her,  for  that,  she 
knew,  was  in  Addie's  mind  as  she  spoke. 

"  Well,  anyway,  I  don't  want  the  impertinent 
thing  to  know  any  thing  about  it.  If  I  felt  sure 
of  Lily  it  would  be  all  right.  They  will  always 
leave  Elfie  with  her  any  length  of  time  ;  but  Lily 
is  queer  sometimes,  and  I  guess  I'd  better  man- 
age it  myself." 

"  I  thought  Lily  was  coming  with  us." 

"  Lily,  Katie,  Delia,  and  Bell  are  all  coming, 
and  if  Lily  sees  Elfie  there  with  us  she  wont  say 
any  thing  about  it  afterward,  even  if  she  does 
make  a  little  fuss  just  at  first ;  but  I  know  she 
wont  take  her  herself." 

"Well,  manage  it  your  own  way.  Instead  of 
going  home  I'll  just  walk  down  through  the  grove 
and  meet  you  at  the  little  iron  gate.  You  must 
go  right  down  as  soon  as  "recess  begins,  so  as  to 
have  time  to  get  through  and  back  here  to  your 
dinner." 

There  was  no  one  but  Addie  at  the  little  gate 
when  the  girls  ran  through  the  grove,  but  in  a 
moment  two  bold-looking  young  women,  very 
flashily  dressed,  appeared,  walking  leisurely 
toward  them  on  the  other  side. 


2O2  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  There  they  come,"  said  Addie.  "  Have  you 
got  the  key  to  the  padlock,  Edna?" 

"  I  haven't  got  the  key  that  belongs  to  it,  of 
course,  but  I  have  brought  one  that  fits  it  per- 
fectly well." 

"  O,  dear,  suppose  it  shouldn't  ?  " 

"  Never  fear,  I've  tried  it  before,"  said  Edna, 
nodding  her  head  wisely  and  fitting  the  key  into 
the  lock,  which  it  turned  easily. 

"  These  ladies  are  Madame  Belotti  and  her  sis- 
ter," said  Addie,  as  a  sort  of  introduction. 

li  But  where  is  the  spazinx  ?  "  asked  Elfie,  look- 
ing greatly  disappointed. 

"  I  am  de  sphinx,  young  lady,"  said  one  of  the 
women. 

"  But  you've  got  legs  and  arms.  Spazinxes 
don't  have  any  thing  but  heads  an'  a  big  lace 
collar.  I  did  see  one  in  a  picture." 

"  I  don't  have  any  ding  but  a  head  ven  I  is 
professional,"  said  tlie  woman,  affably,  but 
glancing  around  hurriedly  as  if  she  feared  a  pos- 
sible interruption,  "bat  of  course  I  can't  walk 
widout  my  legs." 

"  But  I  don't  see  how  you  pull  them  off  and 
put  them  on  again,"  said  Elfie,  sidling  away  with 
some  timidity  from  a  creature  whose  anatomy 
was  so  foreign  to  the  established  usages  of  hu- 


THE  SPHINX.  203 

manity,  "and  I  don't  want  my  fortune  told.  I'd 
rather  go  back." 

"  O,  don't  be  afraid,"  said  Madame  Belotti, 
sweetly.  "  I  have  nice  little  girls  of  my  own  at 
home,  and  here's  my  sister ;  she  has  lots  of 
pretty  dings  in  her  bag.  She'll  show  dem  to 
you  while  dese  young  ladies  let  me  read  deir 
palms." 

Elfie  felt  less  dread  of  a  person  who  made  no 
pretension  to  being  a  sphinx,  and  was  soon  examin- 
ing with  great  interest  a  box  of  trinkets  which  the 
woman  told  her  were  genuine  gypsy-queen  adorn- 
ments, worn  at  gypsy  courts  on  great  occasions. 

Meantime  Madame  Belotti  was  gazing  with 
mysterious  scrutiny  upon  the  lines  of  Katie's 
pretty  pink  palm  and  predicting  a  mosaic  of  ill 
and  good  fortune  so  nicely  blended  that  Katie 
felt  that  her  future  life,  as  thus  set  before  her,  had 
little  to  embitter  it. 

"  Now  try  mine,"  said  Lily,  "  and  be  sure  you 
put  in  a  trip  to  Europe,  with  a  winter  in  Rome 
and  another  in  Paris." 

"  Dere  is  much  pleasure  for  you,  my  pretty 
young  lady,"  said  the  prophetess,  "  and  some 
pain  to  endure  before  the  pleasure  comes,  but 
dere's  money  and  fame  for  you  finally,  and  great 
prosperity  and  a  long  life  wid  somebody." 


204  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  Why,  there's  a  mysterious  somebody  in  ev- 
ery one's  hand,  is  there  ?  "  asked  Lily.  "  I  won- 
der who  my  somebody  is." 

"  A  tall,  fair  man,  wid  a  long  mustache,"  said 
the  fortune  teller,  oracularly. 

"  Well,"  said  Lily,  "  you  may  keep  that  young 
man  yourself,  for  of  all  things  I  hate  tall,  fair  men. 
My  papa  is  little  and  broad,  and  he's  my  type  of 
every  thing  good  ;  and  I  wouldn't  marry  a  man 
who  wasn't  just  like  him  for  the  whole  world." 

"  O,  Lily,  do  shut  up ! "  whispered  Edna. 
"You'll  make  her  angry,  and  then  she  wont 
finish." 

But  madame  seemed  in  no  way  disconcerted 
or  offended  by  Lily's  trifling,  and  continued  to 
promise  her  quite  an  extensive  variety  of  experi- 
ences. Then  Edna  offered  her  hand  with  its  too 
ample  embellishment  of  rings,  and  madame  gave 
them  quite  a  little  turn  by  the  excitement  she 
manifested  on  studying  its  interesting  lines. 

"  A  most  wonderful  hand,  lady.  I  have  never 
seen  but  one  like  it.  It  holds  a  destiny  dat 
frightens  me.  Do  I  dare  to  tell  you  ?  Let  me 
dink  a  moment." 

Here  she  grew  so  awful  and  mysterious  in  her 
manner,  while  she  turned  the  hand  one  way  and 
the  other  as  if  to  get  new  light  upon  the  doom 


THE  SPHINX.  205 

there  depicted,  and  the  girls  grew  deeply  ab- 
sorbed in  their  attention,  clustering  close  around 
her  in  forgetfulness  of  every  thing  else. 

The  air  was  heavy  with  the  August  noonday 
heat.  Above  in  the  grove  the  meeting  branches 
hardly  stirred.  Even  the  birds  and  the  insect 
world  were  still,  and  the  only  sound  that  broke 
upon  the  oppressive  silence  was  the  distant  rush 
of  water  that  fell  over  the  little  dam,  half  a  mile 
away  from  them. 

"  I  tinks  I  cannot  tell  you  it  all,"  said  the 
fortune-teller,  raising  her  head  and  looking  about 
her  hurriedly.  "  Some  young  ladies  when  dey 
hears  what  is  not  good  dey  faints  and  goes  on 
very  bad,  and  deir  friends  makes  a  fuss  and 
scolds  de  poor  gypsy,  who  only  tells  what  she 
reads ;  an'  it  is  not  her  fault  if  it  is  not  good." 

"  But  I  will  not  faint  or  make  a  fuss,"  said  Edna, 
looking  pale  and  frightened.  "  I  am  not  afraid." 

"  No,  you  needn't  be,"  said  Lily,  making  an 
effort  to  throw  off  an  uncomfortable  feeling  that 
the  woman's  intense  manner  had  given  them  all. 
"  I  don't  believe  in  fortune-telling  any  way." 

"  But  it  is  true.  I  have  de  power  to  see  de 
future,  to  see  de  past  too,"  said  the  woman. 
"  Shall  I  tell  you  all  about  your  past  life  ?  " — this 

to  Edna,  who 'murmured  an  assent. 
14 


206  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  Well,  den,  you  haf  live  in  fine  house  and  had 
much  fine  dresses  and  jewels,  and  you  haf  lost 
a  friend,  and  you  haf  lately  had  a  letter." 

These  shrewd  guesses,  based  on  the  sight  of 
Edna's  showy  rings  and  very  light  mourning, 
seemed  like  very  conclusive  evidence  that  her 
father's  wealth  and  her  grandmother's  death  last 
year  were  entries  in  the  book  of  fate  that  was 
open  to  the  bold  black  eyes,  and  Edna  became 
almost  afraid  to  hear  the  dark  prophecy  that  she 
was  threatened  with. 

"  'Tis  a  strange  fate,  very  strange,"  said  the 
woman,  again  musing  over  the  hand  she  held,  but 
stealing  an  anxious  glance  at  a  little  nickel  watch 
that  hung  by  her  side. 

"  I  will  hear  it,"  said  Edna,  tragically,  nerving 
herself  for  the  worst. 

"  Nonsense,"  said  Lily,  catching  a  glimpse  of 
her  ghastly,  agitated  face.  "  You  are  taking  all 
this  stuff  in  dead  earnest,  Edna,  and  it  will  make 
you  sick.  O,  dear,  I  wish  we  hadn't  come  !  Mrs. 
Abbott  will  be  so  displeased  !  Come,  girls,  let's 
go  right  home  ;  "  and  she  pulled  out  her  pocket- 
book.  "  You  shall  have  money  for  each  of  us, 
Madame  Belotti,  but  I  think  we  don't  want  to 
hear  any  more  solemn  truths  to-day." 

Edna,  who  was  rather  a  nervous  girl,  was  be- 


THE  SPHINX.  207 

ginning  to  cry,  and  the  others,  frightened  lest 
she  should  treat  them  to  a  fit  of  hysterics  such 
as  she  had  once  in  a  thunder-storm,  and  make 
it  difficult  to  get  her  home  quietly,  began  to 
soothe  her  and  try  to  coax  her  back  to  the  gate. 
Madame  seemed  a  little  indifferent  about  the 
money  Lily  and  Katie  fumbled  in  their  purses  to 
collect.  Suddenly  Katie  exclaimed  : 

"  Elfie  !     Win-,  where  is  the  child  ?  " 

"  Gone  back  into  the  grove,  probably."  said 
Addie,  quietly,  who  felt  calmer  than  the  others 
because  less  responsible. 

"  She  must  be  with  Madame  Belotti's  sister," 
said  Lily,  not  yet  feeling  very  much  worried. 
"  Where  is  she,  madame?" 

The  sphinx  was  thrusting  the  money  into  her 
pocket-book  and  bowing  as  if  to  say  farewell. 
Her  face  wore  an  anxious  look,  but  she  replied 
very  civilly,  pointing  in  the  opposite  direction 
from  the  road  that  led  to  the  station  : 

"  De  little  one  is  all  safe.  My  sister  gets  her 
to  draw  for  us  some  lucky  numbers  out  of  a  bag, 
so  we  may  get  a  great  fortune  from  dem.  De 
drawing  must  be  made  unter  a  red  oak-tree  and 
in  de  sound  of  running  water.  Dat  is  very  im- 
portant. And  hark!  I  hears  running  water  off 
dere,  and  as  we  walks  up  I  say  to  my  sister, 


208  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

4  Some  water-fall  is  down  dat  way,  and  you  must 
take  de  little  girl  dere  to  draw  de  numbers  from 
de  bag.'  Shall  I  go  look  for  her,  young  ladies, 
or  vill  you  go  yourselves  and  find  her  unter  some 
big  red  oak-tree  near  de  falling  water?" 

The  girls  were  running  down  the  hill  toward 
the  little  mill  before  madame  quite  finished  speak- 
ing, but  that  oracular  person  did  not  seem  dis- 
turbed at  being  left.  She  gave  one  glance  at 
Edna,  who,  after  a  moment  of  hesitation,  rather 
sulkily  followed  the  others,  and  fleetly  disap- 
peared in  the  other  direction. 


ELFIE  GONE!  209 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

ELFIE  GONE  ! 

"  How  does  it  happen,"  said  Mrs.  Abbott,  as 
she  carved  the  roast  beef  at  dinner,  "  that  there 
are  so  many  vacant  places  at  the  table  ?  " 

"  I  don't  understand  it  at  all,"  said  Miss 
Blake.  . "  No  one  has  asked  to  be  excused,  and 
irregularity  at  meals  has  never  been  a  fault  of 
any  of  our  household." 

"  Elfie  is  missing  too,"  said  Mrs.  Abbott, 
"  but  she  is  undoubtedly  up-stairs  in  the  room 
with  Candace." 

"  She  is  in  Katie  Ashley's  charge  for  school 
hours  this  week,"  said  Miss  Blake. 

"  True,  but  where  is  Katie  ?  Does  any  one  at 
the  table  know  where  Katie  and  the  other  ab- 
sent ones  are  ?  " 

But  no  one  knew,  and  Mrs.  Abbott,  with  some 
displeasure  expressed  on  her  face,  sent  one  of 
the  maids  up-stairs  to  search  for  the  absentees, 
while  the  dinner  proceeded  in  uncomfortable 
silence  till  interrupted  just  as  the  plates  of  the 
first  course  were  being  removed  by  the  entrance 


210  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

of  Lily,  who  ran  into  the  room  with  a  white 
face,  glanced  at  Elfie's  vacant  place,  and  cried 
out  apprehensively : 

"  O,  I  did  hope  she  might  have  come  back 
alone  !  We  cannot  find  her  anywhere  !  " 

"  Who  are  you  talking  about  ? "  asked  Mrs. 
Abbott,  turning  very  pale  and  speaking  sternly. 
"  Is  it  Elfie  you  cannot  find  ?" 

Then  Lily,  before  them  all,  gave  a  rapid  history 
of  the  deliberate  disobedience,  their  interview 
with  the  fortune-teller,  and  Elfie's  disappearance. 

Mrs.  Abbott  heard  it  to  the  end  in  silence,  but 
her  face  looked  haggard  and  worried  as  she  her- 
self led  the  way  to  a  thorough  search  in  every 
direction.  The  other  S.  C.  girls  had  nothing  to 
add  to  Lily's  story,  but  huddled  together  regret- 
ting bitterly,  now  that  it  was  too  late,  their  dis- 
obedience, which  had  caused  all  this  trouble. 

Inquiries  at  the  station  showed  that  the  fort- 
une teller  and  her  sister,  with  a  man  in  attend- 
ance, took  the  train  at  1:15,  but  as  they  did  not 
get  their  tickets  it  could  not  be  learned  at  what 
place  they  would  leave  the  cars.  They  reached 
the  station  only  just  in  time  for  the  train,  which 
they  boarded  instantly.  They  were  loaded  down 
with  shawls  and  packages,  but  no  one  saw  a 
child  in  their  company. 


ELFIE  GONE!  211 

The  proprietor  of  the  livery-stable  said  two 
ladies  who  had  stopped  a  day  behind  the  circus 
hired  a  carriage  of  him,  but  on  meeting  a  gentle- 
man friend  dismissed  him  with  orders  to  meet 
them  and  take  charge  of  his  carriage  at  the  ar- 
rival of  the  1:15  train.  He  was  a  moment  late, 
but  found  his  horses  and  the  empty  carriage 
standing  back  of  the  station  and  the  young  man 
just  following  the  ladies  into  the  cars.  They 
had  paid  him  more  than  he  asked  when  dismiss- 
ing him. 

It  was  some  hours  before  another  train  left, 
and  Mrs.  Abbott,  in  sad  perplexity,  went  to  her 
old  friend  Mr.  Mason,  the  bank  president,  who 
was  also  Addie's  father,  who  advised  telegraph- 
ing to  Troy  to  have  the  in-coming  train  searched 
for  the  party,  which  they  described  as  nearly  as 
possible. 

It  was  not  till  Mr.  Mason  spoke  incidentally 
of  the  girl  who  brought  the  check  in  the  morn- 
ing that  Mrs.  Abbott  remembered  she  had  not 
seen  Marion  since  sending  her  to  him. 

Going  home  again  she  sought  her  at  once  in 
Candace's  room.  The  poor  woman  had  but  just 
learned  of  Elfie's  disappearance,  and  her  anguish 
was  pitiful  to  see.  She  rose  from  her  bed  at 
once,  conquering  the  pain  that  had  kept  her  a 


212  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

prisoner  there,  and  declaring  she  would  go  in 
search  of  her  child. 

"  O,  where,  where  was  Miss  Marion,"  she 
asked,  "  not  to  be  looking  after  my  pet  ?  " 

It  had  become  certain  by  that  time  that  Mar- 
ion had  also  disappeared,  and,  though  there  was 
no  ground  for  hoping  it,  Candace  instantly  de- 
clared that  Marion  had  gone  after  her  darling. 

Mr.  Mason  and  Mrs.  Abbott  were  at  the  sta- 
tion waiting  for  the  cars  when  a  telegram  was 
brought  to  her  from  the  office  within  the  building. 


Ox  THE  ROAD.  213 


CHAPTER  XXVII. 

ON  THE  ROAD. 

THE  brakeman  on  the  express-train  stood  at 
the  door  of  the  last  car  looking  through  the  glass 
at  the  scenery  which  constant  travel  had  made 
so  familiar  to  him  that  he  was  hardly  conscious 
of  its  wonderful  beauty,  but  a  downward  glance 
showed  him  something  much  less  common,  and 
his  face  became  expressive  of  great  alertness  as, 
uttering  one  or  two  words  of  greater  strength 
and  force  than  his  ordinary  language  conveyed, 
he  opened  the  door  and  let  himself  out  upon  the 
platform. 

"  Well,"  he  said,  looking  at  Marion  critically, 
"  for  an  outside  passenger  may  be  you've  got 
the  right  kind  of  a  look,  but  it  strikes  me  if 
you'd  remembered  to  put  on  your  bunnit  and 
brushed  yourself  up  a  little  you'd  have  seemed 
more  respectable.  Where  are  you  going,  my 
pretty  maid,  and  where  did  you  come  from  ?  " 

"  I  got  on  at  the  last  station,"  said  Marion, 
seeing  only  kindness  on  his  face  in  spite  of  his 
gruff  tones.  "  I  was  too  late,  and  I  had  to  jump 


214  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

on  after  you  started,  and  I  lost  my  hat  getting 
over  a  fence  trying  to  catch  the  train." 

"  Well,"  said  the  brakeman,  slowly,  "  stealing 
rides  aint  a  healthy  way  of  traveling,  and  the 
company's  disposed  to  fight  men  and  boys  who 
try  it ;  but  I  don't  think  they  ever  thought  about 
a  girl  gettin'  on  a-flyin'  and  ridin'  for  nothin*. 
I  suppose  you'll  have  to  be  put  off  like  the  rest 
of  them.  Likely  the  rule  works  same  way  for 
hers  as  hims,  and  the  directions  says,  '  Put  him 
off  immejiate.'  ' 

"  Please  don't  put  me  off — please,  please 
don't,"  said  Marion.  "  I  didn't  want  to  steal  a 
ride,  but  I  had  a  reason  for  wanting  to  get  on 
this  train,  and  so,  though  I  was  too  late,  I  jumped 
on  it  after  it  left  the  depot." 

"  A  very  dangerous  thing  to  do,"  said  the 
brakeman,  soberly,  "  and  it's  more  than  a  won- 
der you  war 'n't  killed." 

"  You  'were  not  going  so  awfully  fast,"  said 
Marion,  "  but  I'm  sorry  I've  broken  any  rules  or 
done  any  thing  you  don't  like.  I  have  no  ticket, 
but  can't  I  pay  my  way  without  one  ?  " 

"  You  can  pay  the  conductor,  but  I  think  the 
first  thing  to  be  done  is  to  get  you  inside.  It 
wouldn't  take  much  to  blow  you  off  this  plat- 
form." 


Ox  THE  ROAD.  215 

He  opened  the  door  and  gave  the  girl  a  seat. 
The  car  was  not  crowded,  and,  being  seated  so 
far  back,  only  two  or  three  passengers  seemed 
to  notice  her  entrance.  Among  these  was  a  tall, 
angular  woman,  who  put  on  an  appearance  of  great 
astonishment  at  seeing  a  bare-headed  passenger 
brought  in  from  nowhere.  She  gazed  steadily 
at  Marion  for  a  while,  and  seemed  about  to  ques- 
tion her,  but  contented  herself  by  shaking  her 
head  at  the  ceiling  and  ejaculating,  "  Well,  I 
never  did  !  " 

Presently,  the  man  having  gone,  Marion  bent 
over  and  executed  some  mysterious  movements 
which  culminated  in  her  bringing  to  light  a  crisp 
new  bill. 

This  time  the  lady  said,  "Did  I  ever?"  ad- 
dressing her  exclamation,  as  before,  to  the  car- 
roof. 

"  It  cannot  be  wrong  to  use  it,"  Marion  was 
saying  to  herself.  "  I  shall  be  put  off  the  train 
if  I  do  not  pay  my  way,  and  then  perhaps  no 
one  can  ever  find  Elfie." 

Presently  the  conductor  came  through  the  car, 
looking  keenly  to  right  and  left  for  any  new  face. 
His  eye  fell  upon  Marion,  and,  looking  rather 
curiously  at  her  disarranged  dress,  he  demanded 
her  ticket. 


216  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  I  have  no  ticket,"  said  the  girl,  "  but  I  have 
money  to  pay  my  fare,  if  you  will  tell  me  how 
much  it  is." 

"  Where  are  you  going  to  ?  " 

That  very  natural  and  proper  question  was 
appalling  to  Marion.  She  hesitated  a  moment, 
thinking  very  fast  how  she  should  surmount  the 
difficulty  which  had  unexpectedly  arisen,  then  an- 
swered his  question,  Yankee  fashion,  with  an- 
other : 

"  What  does  it  cost  to  go  to  the  end  of  the 
line?" 

"  Three  dollars  to  go  to  Troy." 

"  Then  please  sell  me  a  ticket  for  Troy,"  said 
Marion,  handing  him  a  five-dollar  bill,  and  watch- 
ing him  anxiously  while  he  looked  at  it  struti- 
nizingly  before  handing  her  two  dollars  and  a  lit- 
tle certificate  upon  which  he  informed  her  she 
could  reclaim  five  cents  if  she  offered  it  at  a 
station  ;  Marion  cared  very  little  for  that  just 
then,  but  she  did  care  for  the  check  he  gave  her, 
with  the  names  of  all  the  stopping-places  printed 
on  the  back. 

The  car  was  full  of  people  with  their  backs 
toward  the  door  Marion  had  entered,  and  no  one 
had  noticed  her  except  those  in  the  farthest 
back  seats.  Her  appearance  excited  some  re- 


Ox  THE  ROAD.  217 

mark  for  a  few  moments,  but  no  one  showed  any 
special  curiosity  about  her  except  the  thin  lady 
in  the  seat  opposite  hers.  She  indeed  watched 
her  so  closely  that  she  could  hardly  give  any  at- 
tention to  the  red  wool  crochet-work  that  oc- 
cupied her  fingers.  There  was  something  that 
Marion  at  first  thought  rather  forbidding  about 
her  sharp  black  eyes,  but  around  her  mouth  was 
a  pleasant,  comfortable  expression  that  made  it 
seem  quite  natural  that  she  should  after  a  while 
lean  over  toward  Marion,  and  stretch  out  her 
hand  with  a  big  red  apple  in  it. 

Marion  took  it  with  rather  a  greedy  feeling, 
for  she  had  missed  her  dinner  and  was  beginning 
to  feel  quite  hungry. 

"  Mebbe  you'd  better  set  over  here  by  me," 
said  the  donor,  pleased  to  see  her  apple  so  well  ap- 
preciated ;  "you're  a-settin'  right  inter  the  sun." 

"  How  beautifully  you  crochet!"  said  Marion, 
gratefully  taking  the  cooler  seat. 

"  Well,  I've  done  enough  to  do  it  middlin' 
well." 

"  What  is  it  to  be?"  asked  Marion,  not  caring 
much,  but  feeling  that  her  companion  wanted  to 
talk. 

"  It's  a  Tarn  o'  Shanter;  this  is  the  fifteenth 
one  I've  made  for  the  new  church  organ." 


218  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  What  does  the  church  organ  want  of  them  ? " 
asked  Marion,  so  busy  thinking  she  hardly  knew 
what  she  said. 

"  You  seem  to  be  awful  dumb,  for  your  size," 
said  the  crocheter.  "  The  ladies  of  the  church 
have  undertaken  to  buy  an  organ,  an'  we're  tak- 
in'  every  way  to  do  it ;  we've  had  strawberry 
festivals  an'  clam  suppers,  an'  a  passel-bag,  an'  a 
guess-cake,  an*  even  the  children  had  a  parlor 
fair  and  raised  twenty-five  dollars.  I  get  a  dol- 
lar an'  fifteen  cents  for  these,  an'  takin'  out  for 
the  yarn  I  buy  at  wholesale  they  give  a  profit 
of  one  dollar  each  for  the  organ." 

As  she  talked  she  was  opening  a  traveling- 
bag  from  which  she  took  a  finished  cap,  a  dark 
blue  one,  and  held  it  out  for  Marion's  admira- 
tion. 

"  This,"  she  continued,  "  is  one  Cousin  Sarah 
Bly,  in  Albany,  ordered  for  one  of  her  girls,  and 
I'm  going  there  on  a  visit." 

A  sudden  thought  struck  Marion. 

"  O,  wouldn't  you  sell  that  one  to  me?  Per- 
haps your  cousin  would  wait  till  you  could  make 
another,  and  I  do  need  something  to  cover  my 
head." 

The  woman  looked  at  her  thoughtfully. 

"  I  made  sure  when  I  set    eyes  on  you  that 


ON  THE  ROAD.  219 

you'd  run  away,''  she  said,  "for  no  young  girl's 
mother  'd  let  her  go  travelin'  without  a  hat  or 
bunnit.  But  you  don't  seem  a  wild  sort,  an' 
mebbe  you  had  a  good  reason  for  makin'  off; 
you  may  hev  been  a  bound  girl  for  all  I  know. 
However,  I  don  't  know  's  I've  any  objection  to 
lettin'  you  have  the  Tarn.  It'll  be  that  much 
extra  for  the  organ." 

So  the  purchase  was  made,  and  Marion  looked 
much  less  conspicuous  with  her  head  covered. 

"  I  lost  my  hat  as  I  ran,"  explained  Marion, 
"  and  the  bushes  caught  my  dress  and  tore  all 
these  places." 

"  I've  got  a  '  huzif '  with  needles  and  thread," 
said  the  woman,  "  and  you  might  sew  up  the 
worst  of  the  tears.  There's  pieces  gone  out  of 
some  of  'em,  but  you  can  cobble  them  up  into 
some  kind  of  shape  an'  help  yourself  to  look 
more  like  decent  traveling  folks.  I  don't  hold 
to  finery  on  the  road,  but  I  hate  rags  either 
abroad  or  to  home." 

Marion  thanked  her  joyfully,  but  while  she 
busied  herself  with  the  rents  she  pondered  on 
the  strangeness  of  hearing  from  some  one  else 
the  infelicities  of  speech  that  she  was  beginning 
to  be  quite  emancipated  from  herself;  for  no  one 
meeting  her  now  would  believe  that  she  had  only 


220  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

lately  expressed  herself  in  a  more  uncouth  dia-. 
lect  than  her  fellow-passenger  used.  Then,  as 
the  train  slowed  up  at  a  station,  she  became 
wildly  anxious  for  fear  the  party  she  was  pursu- 
ing might  leave  the  cars  unnoticed  by  her. 

She  felt  that  it  would  be  very  imprudent  for 
her  to  let  herself  be  seen  by  Elfie,  so  she  went 
to  the  steps  at  the  back  of  the  car  and  eagerly 
scanned  the  people  who  were  getting  off.  Then, 
as  she  came  back  to  her  seat,  it  again  occurred  to 
her  that  she  could  not  even  be  certain  that  Elfie 
was  on  the  train,  and  this  journey  of  hers  might 
be  a  foolish  exploit  which  she  could  hardly  ex- 
plain satisfactorily  to  Mrs.  Abbott. 

"  You've  got  somethin'  on  your  mind,"  said 
the  thin,  crocheting  lady,  as  Marion  resumed 
her  seat,  "  an'  ef  I  was  you,  ef  it  was  any  wrong- 
doin',  I'd  think  twice  fore  I  kept  on  with  it." 

There  was  something  honest  and  persuasive 
in  her  tones,  and  Marion  felt  that  she  was  a 
friend ;  so,  obeying  a  sudden  impulse,  she  ex- 
claimed, after  a  searching  look  into  the  bright 
eyes  that  were  looking  rather  deploringly  at  her, 

"  O,  I  do  wish  you  would  help  me ! " 


A  TRAVELING  ACQUAINTANCE.        221 


CHAPTER  XXVIII. 

A  TRAVELING  ACQUAINTANCE. 

"  WELL,  my  name  is  Hannah  Amandy  Man- 
ning, and  I'm  first  cousin  to  Minister  Jones's 
wife,  an'  I  teach  a  class  in  Sunday-school,  an' 
I've  had  the  deestrict  school  for  three  summers. 
I  aint  a  married  woman  with  children  of  my 
own,  but  I've  got  a  general  interest  in  all  young 
folks,  an'  I  believe  I'm  kinder  motherly,  if  I  be 
an  old  maid.  I've  told  you  now  who  I  am.  If  you 
like  to  make  a  clean  breast  of  it — for  I  know 
you've  got  somethin'  out  o'  the  common  to  tell — 
I'll  give  you  advice  accordin'  to  my  judgment, 
or  I'll  help  you  out  o'  your  scrape,  whatever  it 
is,  providin'  you've  got  the  right  kind  o'  prin- 
ciples about  you.  I  aintgoin'  in  for  any  schemes 
for  leavin'  a  country  home  to  seek  your  fortin' 
in  a  big  city,  that's  come  out  o'  readin'  improper 
literatoor." 

It  was  not  like  Marion  to  confide  in  a  stranger, 
but  she  felt  the  need  of  help,  and  her  instincts 
had  guided  her  correctly  in  asking  it  of  Miss 

Manning.     The  keen  bright  eyes  were  the  win- 
15 


222  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

dows  of  a  feithful  heart  which  warmed  gener- 
ously to  the  brave  girl  as  she  heard  all  of  the 
story  Marion  thought  it  best  to  tell  her. 

"Well,  I  never!"  "Sho!"  and  "I  never 
did!"  at  intervals,  were  her  comments  as  the 
story  proceeded.  When  it  was  done  she 
grasped  her  long  chin  in  her  right  hand,  and 
only  saying,  "  Lemme  think  a  minute,"  gazed 
for  some  time  at  the  flying  landscape. 

Marion,  too,  was  thinking,  wondering  what 
they  were  doing  at  school,  what  they  would 
think,  and  wondering  if  Mrs.  Abbott  would 
blame  her  for  making  use  of  the  money  intrusted 
to  her.  Her  reverie  ended  in  such  a  long  sigh 
that  Miss  Manning  turned  around  with  a  jerk. 

"  What  now?  "  she  demanded. 

"  Nothing,  only  I  'm  so  troubled  about  spending 
Mrs.  Abbott's  money." 

"  Well,  you  needn't  be,  if  your  Mrs.  Abbott 
is  the  woman  you  make  out  she  is.  She  would 
not  spare  money  in  such  a  cause.  You  aint  told 
me  how  much  you've  got,  and  I'm  glad  of  it;  it 
shows  you've  got  some  worldly  wisdom,  and, 
whatever  happens,  don't  you  tell  any  body  else 
you've  got  a  cent.  This  world's  full  of  villains, 
and  there  aint  one  in  a  thousand  that's  to  be 
trusted,  and  them  that  looks  like  saints  is  more  'n 


A  TRAVELING  ACQUAINTANCE.        223 

likely  to  be  wuss  sinners  than  them  that  seems 
to  be  ragamuffins." 

"  I  trust  you,"  said  Marion. 

"  Well,  you  don't  know  as  you'd  oughter.  How 
can  you  tell  this  minute  but  I'm  one  of  the  very 
folks  that's  plotting  to  get  hold  of  that  child?  " 

"  I  want  you  to  get  hold  of  her,  or  help  me 
to  do  it,"  said  Marion,  with  a  bright  smile  light- 
ing up  her  worried  face  for  a  moment. 

"  Good  for  you  !  "  said  Miss  Manning,  with  a 
smile  that  was  good  to  see,  if  less  charming  than 
the  girl's. 

"Now,  I've  been  thinking  it  over,"  she  con- 
tinued, growing  very  sober,  "  and  this  is  the  way 
it  stands.  You  don't  even  know  for  certain  the 
child  is  on  the  train  ?  " 

"  No;  but  I  am  sure  she  must  be.'1 

"  Well,  I  guess  she  is  ;  I  feel  it  in  my  bones, 
as  it  were,  that  she  is,  an'  I'm  kinder  witchy 
about  feeling  things,  but  you  can't  go  through 
the  cars  looking  at  the  folks  to  find  out,  for  even 
if  them  circus  fortune-tellers  didn't  recognize 
you  the  child  would  likely  holler  out  as  soon  as 
she  seen  you,  an'  those  folks  'd  get  excited  an'  try 
some  other  dodge.  They  might  even  try  to  get 
you  arrested  for  trying  to  entice  a  child  away 
from  'em." 


224  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  Yes ;  I  should  have  gone  through  the  cars  as 
soon  as  I  paid  my  fare  if  I  hadn't  been  afraid 
of  that,  and  that  is  why  I  wanted  your  help.  I 
was  going  to  ask  the  conductor  if  he  had  seen_ 
them,  but  I  was  afraid  he  might  tell  them  some 
one  was  asking  for  them.  Do  you  think  you 
could  go  through  and  look  for  them,  Miss  Man- 
ning, if  I  told  you  just  how  they  look  ?  " 

"Certainly;  I  was  just  a-goin' to  propose  it. 
I  never  have  walked  through  a  train  while  'twas 
goin'  jigglety-jiggle,  but  I  guess  I  can  do  it. 
Mebbe  it's  against  the  law  to  go  out  of  a  car 
while  it's  in  motion,  but  if  that  conductor  tries 
to  have  me  took  up  it'll  be  the  worst  for  him, 
for  I  can  prove  I'm  a  respectable  woman,  no  mat- 
ter where  I  am." 

So  showing  her  utter  confidence  in  Marion  by 
leaving  in  her  charge  her  traveling-bag  and  be- 
loved crochet-work,  Miss  Manning,  making  wild 
clutches  at  the  seat-backs  as  the  swaying  car 
threw  her  from  side  to  side,  began  her  exploring 
expedition  through  the  train. 

It  seemed  a  long  time  to  Marion  before  she 
returned,  but  the  moment  she  re-entered  the  car 
her  sharp  eyes  sought  the  girl's,  and  the  quick 
little  nod  she  gave  said  plainly  that  she  had 
found  the  objects  of  her  search. 


A  TRAVELING  ACQUAINTANCE.        225 

She  was  a  good  deal  excited  by  the  part  she 
was  playing  in  the  adventure,  but  she  would  not 
be  hurried,  and,  anxious  as  Marion  was  to  hear 
all  she  had  to  tell,  she  had  to  wait  till  Miss  Man- 
ning had  re-tied  her  "  bunnit,"  straightened  her 
shawl,  and  re-adjusted  the  overskirt  that  had 
been  pulled  awry  by  contact  with  various  im- 
pediments. 

"  I  seen  'em,"  she  said  at  last ;  "  two  red- 
cheeked  women  and  a  scary  young  man  with 
cabbage  roses  on  their  bunnits ;  dressed  to  kill 
he  was,  in  ready-made  clothes  lots  too  big  for 
him.  He's  got  a  nose  like  a  poll-parrot's  beak, 
and  they've  got  a  child  with  'em.  But,  land  sakes, 
it  aint  much  more  'n  a  baby.  Poor  little  creetur, 
it's  asleep  on  one  seat  with  its  head  on  a  woman's 
lap.  It's  got  a  lace  cap  on  its  head  and  a  white 
dress  with  blue  sash.  It's  as  pale  as  a  ghost,  an' 
there's  great  black  rings  round  its  eyes.  I  should 
really  say  that  they'd  been  givin'  it  something  to 
make  it  sleep,  it  was  such  a  heavy  sleep,  and 
the  child  looked  so  peeked  an'  queer." 

"  O,  dear!"  said  Marion,  struggling  with  a 
sob.  "  I  must  get  her  away  from  them.  I  am 
sure  it  must  be  Elfie.  She's  a  tiny  thing  with  a 
sweet  little  face  and  long  wavy  hair." 

''There  wa'n't  much  hair  showin',  for  she  had 


226  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

her  head  covered  all  up  with  an  embroidered 
cap  tied  under  her  chin." 

"  Elfie  had  a  hat  on,  I  think,'  said  Marion, 
looking  puzzled. 

"Well,  what  of  that?  You  had  a  hat  on  too, 
I  s'pose,  when  you  started,  but  you've  got  on  a 
Tam  now." 

"  O,  yes ;  they  may  have  put  on  the  cap  for  a 
disguise.  Well,  what  next,  Miss  Manning? 
Could  you  find  out  where  they  were  going?" 

"  They  had  one  seat  turned  back  so  they  faced 
each  other,"  continued  Miss  Manning,  "  and  right 
in  front  of  them  was  a  vacant  seat.  I  slipped 
into  it  and  gave  my  whole  mind  to  trying  to 
catch  what  they  said.  One  of  the  women  had 
the  back  of  her  head  close  to  mine,  and  as  she 
couldn't  lean  forward  without  disturbing  the 
child  I  could  hear  what  she  said  pretty  well.  It 
seems  they  are  going  to  Troy,  then  to  New  York, 
and  then,  after  the  hue  and  cry  is  over,  they  are 
going  somewhere  else.  I  picked  out  that  much 
from  their  talk.  But  that  isn't  all.  After  we 
stopped  the  last  time  the  man  hailed  the  con- 
ductor as  he  went  through  and  asked  for  stop- 
over checks,  saying  one  of  the  ladies  was  sick, 
and  he  thought  they'd  have  to  put  up  over  night 
at  Blockville.  After  they  got  the  stop-overs 


A  TRAVELING  ACQUAINTANCE.        227 

they  seemed  to  get  at  odds  among  themselves 
about  whether  to  use  them  or  not ;  one  of  the 
women  said  it  would  be  safer  and  they  could 
take  the  owl-train  on  in  the  night ;  the  other 
one  said  they  might  meet  some  one,  and  she 
was  for  going  on,  The  man  told  her  if  any  one 
was  coming  they'd  come  down  on  the  six-o'clock 
accommodation  this  evening  and  go  past  them  at 
Blockville,  and  besides  that  some  one  might  tele- 
graph to  have  this  train  searched  at  Troy. 

"I  came  away  then,"  continued  Miss  Man- 
ning, "  for  they  didn't  seem  to  be  coming  to  any 
decision,  and  I  thought  we'd  better  be  making 
some  counter-plans." 

"  Yes,"  said  Marion,  "  I  ought  to  get  a  stop- 
over check  too,  for  if  they  get  out  I  must  get 
out  too.  It  wont  do  to  lose  sight  of  them." 

"  If  you  do  get  off  I  had  better  telegraph  to 
Mrs.  Abbott  for  you  as  soon  as  I  get  to  Troy," 
said  Miss  Manning,  "  and  tell  her  you're  on  the 
track." 

"  O,  how  good  in  you  to  think  of  it !  "  said 
Marion.  "Tell  her  I'll  telegraph  myself  when  I 
can  get  a  chance." 

"  How  shall  I  word  it  not  to  scare  'em  to 
death  ?  I  never  writ  a  dispatch  in  my  life." 

"  Nor  I   either,"   said  Marion,  "  but    I   know 


228  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

you  want  to  say  as  few  words  as  possible.     If  I 
had  a  pencil  and  paper  I  would  try." 

Miss  Manning's  traveling-bag  supplied  both, 
and  their  combined  genius,  inexperienced  as  they 
were,  produced  this  rather  obscure  telegram  : 

"  Marion  Stubbs  is  after  them.  They've  got 
Elfie.  Wait  till  she  sends  for  you. 

"A.  MANNING." 

It  did  not  seem  very  clear  to  Marion,  but  she 
hardly  knew  how. to  change  it  without  offending 
Miss  Manning,  who  seemed  highly  pleased  with 
it ;  so  she  wrote  the  address  beneath  and  gave 
her  a  half  dollar  for  expenses,  neither  of  them 
having  any  idea  what  a  message  ought  to  cost. 

The  next  station  was  Colby,  and,  feeling  sure 
that  Blockville  or  Troy  would  be  the  destination 
of  the  party,  Marion  did  not  look  out  for  them, 
but  idly  watched  the  group  of  passengers  who 
were  about  to  get  in.  Suddenly  there  appeared 
upon  the  platform,  making  quick  way  to  the 
waiting-room,  one  of  the  black-eyed  women  with 
a  child  in  her  arms  much  wrapped  in  a  long  dark 
cloak,  followed  closely  by  Madame  Belotti  and 
the  man. 

"O,   look,    Miss   Manning!"    she   exclaimed. 


A  TRAVELING  ACQUAINTANCE.        229 

"They  are  going  to  stop  here  and  I  haven't  my 
stop-over  check !  " 

"  Never  mind  that,  child,"  said  Miss  Manning; 
"jump  out  quick.  Mebbe  your  ticket  '11  do  any 
way ;  ask  'em  at  the  office  'fore  you  get  on  the 
train  again,  and  don't  worry  if  you  have  to  lose 
it.  Mrs.  Abbott  wont  care  what  you  spend  in 
such  a  case.  Good-bye,  dear,  don't  you  lose  my 
direction,  and  write  to  me  sure  as  soon  as  you 
can." 


230  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 


CHAPTER  XXIX. 

WATCHING     AND     WAITING. 

MARION  sprang  off,  and,  waving  a  good-bye  to 
the  new  friend,  she  really  felt  wonderfully  sorry 
to  leave,  mingled  with  the  crowd  of  idlers  on  the 
platform,  apparently  absorbed  like  them  in  watch- 
ing the  outgoing  train.  She  dared  not  go  into 
the  waiting-room,  but,  walking  slowly  up  and 
down  on  the  platform,  she  could  see  what  was 
going  on  within. 

Elfie  was  sleeping,  and  the  woman,  who  had 
taken  a  seat,  still  holding  her,  had  thrown  a  gray 
veil  over  her  face.  Presently  she  stood  up,  and, 
giving  the  child  to  the  man  to  carry,  they  all 
came  out  upon  the  platform,  walked  to  the  end 
of  it,  and,  stepping  into  a  hack,  were  driven  slowly 
up  the  road. 

Marion  started  briskly  after  them,  easily  keep- 
ing the  carriage  in  sight  as  it  climbed  the  long 
hill  to  the  court-house.  There  it  turned  and, 
gradually  increasing  its  speed,  soon  distanced 
her.  For  a  moment  the  girl  was  nonplused, 
then  a  little  thought  re-assured  her.  The  people 


WATCHING  AND  WAITING.  231 

had  probably  stopped  to  elude  pursuit ;  they 
would  waste  no  time,  but  most  likely  go  on,  as 
Miss  Manning  had  heard  them  say  they  intended, 
in  the  oxvl-train.  Probably  they  knew  some  one 
\vith  whom  they  could  stay  in  Colby,  and  so  had 
suddenly  given  up  the  Blockville  plan.  She 
would  go  back  to  the  station  before  any  other 
train  came  and  wait  for  them,  and  perhaps  she 
could  learn  where  they  had  gone  from  the  hack- 
man.  She  was  sure  she  should  know  him  again. 
The  legend,  "  Coffee,  Ice-cream,  and  Stewed 
Oysters  "  caught  her  eyes  as  she  passed  through 
the  street  that  Colbyites  called  the  business  part 
of  their  modest  little  town,  and  made  her  re- 
member that  she  was  very  hungry,  and,  stepping 
into  the  little  saloon,  she  ordered  oysters,  coffee, 
and  bread  and  butter,  which  she  ate  with  great 
relish,  wishing  that  her  conscience  allowed  her  to 
finish  her  feast  with  ice-cream,  her  favorite  deli- 
cacy. But  while  she  felt  sure  she  was  justified 
in  spending  all  the  money  she  needed  to  assist  in 
the  pursuit  of  Elfie,  her  sturdy  honesty  would 
not  justify  her  in  indulging  herself  in  things  that 
were  not  necessities,  so  she  finished  her  frugal 
meal  and  walked  into  the  little  shop  in  front  to 
pay  her  bill.  There  was  a  counter  there  with 
three  divisions  respectively  devoted  to  cakes. 


232  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

candies,  and  pies.  Among  the  cakes  were  some 
shiny  brown  rusks,  and  remembering  the  long 
hours  that  she  must  spend  waiting  for  the  owl- 
train  at  the  railway  station  Marion  ordered  half 
a  dozen  of  them  put  in  paper  for  her. 

A  man  lounged  in  as  she  stood  there,  and  lay- 
ing down  a  dime  helped  himself  to  a  quarter  of 
a  pie,  making  some  jovial  remark  as  he  did  so 
to  the  young  girl  in  charge. 

"  Where  you  been  ? "  asked  the  girl,  who 
seemed  very  willing  to  chat  with  him.  "  I  saw 
you  taking  a  load  of  folks  up  from  the  train, 
didn't  I?" 

"Yes,"  replied  the  man,  with  his  mouth  full 
of  pie  ;  "  some  folks  went  up  to  old  Warner's." 

"  Well,  I  declare  !  Why,  Warner  aint  had  no 
company  before  since  his  son  went  off! " 

"  I  kinder  think  this  was  his  son.  He  had  a 
hooked  nose  like  the  old  man.  I  never  saw  the 
son,  for  he  went  off  before  I  come  to  Colby,  but 
I've  heard  he  had  one." 

"Yes,  he  did;  and  he  wa'n't  good  for  much 
either." 

To  make  an  excuse  for  staying,  Marion  selected 
two  or  three  cakes  to  be  added  to  her  rusks, 
with  great  deliberation,  listening  eagerly,  for  she 
saw  the  empty  hack  at  the  door  and  made  sure 


WATCHING  AND  WAITING.  233 

this  was  the  man  who  had  taken  Elfie  and  her 
captors  from  the  station. 

"  How  long  is  Warner's  company  going  to  stay, 
do  you  s'pose?"  asked  the  girl,  cutting  another 
pie  in  obedience  to  a  sign  from  the  man. 

"That's  the  funniest  part,"  said  the  driver. 
"  They  told  me  to  come  for  them  at  half  past 
one  to-night,  so  they  could  take  the  two-o'clock 
train.  I  says  to  the  fellow  when  he  give  me  my 
fare,  says  I,  'You  make  a  short  visit  to  your 
folks.'  '  Yes,  but  the  baby  seems  feverish,  and 
we've  got  to  get  on  to  Sing  Sing,  so  we  can  have 
our  own  doctor,'  says  he.  'All  right,'  says  I, 
'  I'll  be  back  for  you  in  time.'" 

Marion  needed  to  hear  no  more  ;  so  she  paid 
her  bill  and  walked  out.  She  amused  herself 
walking  about  the  streets,  and  went  into  a  dry- 
goods  store  and  bought  herself  a  small  supply  of 
collars  and  cuffs,  a  pair  of  gloves,  a  crochet  needle, 
and  some  yarn  and  a  little  purse.  She  was  too 
industrious  by  nature  to  feel  happy  without 
work,  and  so  restless  under  the  present  circum- 
stances that  she  thought  some  employment 
might  help  to  keep  her  calm. 

She  went  back  to  the  station  and  occupied 
herself  trying  to  recall  the  fan-pattern  that  Edna 
and  Addie  were  crocheting  for  skirts.  She  sue- 


234  Tin-:  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

ceeded  very  readily,  and  as  the  hours  passed  on 
she  worked  quite  a  long  piece  of  pretty  lace,  and 
her  interest  in  making  it  made  the  long  time  of 
waiting  pass  very  comfortably. 

When  the  late  afternoon  train  passed  she  ran 
to  the  platform  and  eagerly  gazed  at  the  car- 
windows,  thinking  there  was  just  a  possibility  of 
seeing  some  one  from  Coventry  school. 

But  there  was  no  one  there,  and  she  opened  her 
parcel  and  ate  her  rusks  and  cake  with  a  glass  of 
water,  and,  getting  a  seat  near  the  light,  began 
her  crocheting  again.  At  half  past  nine  the  up 
freight  came  by,  followed  in  half  an  hour  by 
the  passenger  train  from  Troy.  The  station- 
master,  who  had  looked  curiously  at  Marion 
several  times,  then  came  and  told  her  he  was  go- 
ing to  shut  up  the  depot. 

"  O,  dear  !  "  she  cried,  "  I  was  sure  there  was  a 
train  at  two  o'clock  to-night." 

"  So  there  is,  and  I  come  down  and  open  the 
place  ten  minutes  before  it  comes.  You  ought 
to  have  taken  the  eight-o'clock  train  if  you 
wanted  to  go  to  Troy." 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  do,"  said  poor  Marion. 
"Couldn't  I  stay  here?" 

"  I'd  have  to  lock  you  in,"  said  the  man,  doubt- 
fully. "  Aint  you  got  no  place  to  go  to?  " 


WATCHING  AND  WAITING.  235 

"No;  but  I  don't  mind  staying  if  you  will  let 
me ;  I  can  crochet,  and  that  will  keep  me  from 
getting  lonesome." 

"But  I'll  have  to  put  out  the  lights;  there's 
orders  against  leaving  a  light." 

Being  shut  up  alone  in  the  dark  was  not  a 
pleasant  prospect,  but  Marion  was  resolved  for 
Rifle's  sake  to  shrink  from  nothing.  Still,  it  was 
a  pale  little  face  with  trembling  lips  that  the 
station-master  glanced  at  as  with  a  lantern  in  his 
hand  he  went  out  of  the  door. 

He  was  not  a  sympathetic  man,  but  the  sight 
made  him  say  cheerily: 

"  Well,  sis,  I'll  come  back  a  little  ahead  of 
time  so's  to  shorten  up  the  hours  for  you.  If 
I  had  a  home  of  my  own  I'd  offer  to  take  you 
along  with  me,  but  I'm  one  of  ten  fellows  in  a 
mill  boarding-house,  an'  it  aint  no  place  for  a 
girl." 

Marion  tried  to  thank  him,  but  her  voice  didn't 
seem  very  steady.  She  was  very  near  to  tears, 
but  she  wouldn't  let  them  come. 

"  Look  a-here,  Mary  Ann,"  she  said,  dropping 
into  the  unconventional  form  of  speech  which 
had  once  made  her  so  laughed  at,  "you  aint 
such  a  great  account  that  there's  anyone  comin' 
here  a  purpose  to  bother  you,  an'  the  Lord  aint 


236  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

goin'  to  give  up  lookin'  after  you  just  'cause  the 
lights  is  out." 

Then  kneeling  down  on  the  hard  floor  in  front 
of  one  of  the  seats  Marion  prayed  long  and  ear- 
nestly for  success  on  her  mission,  for  guidance 
and  care. 

"I  think  I  can  sleep  now,"  she  said  to  herself, 
so  soothed  and  tranquilized  as  she  rose  from  her 
knees  that  it  no  longer  seemed  dreadful  to  be 
left  there  alone. 

The  moon  was  rising,  and  there  was  light 
enough  for  her  to  pick  out  a  corner  seat  which 
was  more  roomy  than  the  others,  and,  curling 
her  feet  under  her,  she  soon  forgot  her  trials  in 
a  sweet,  healthy  sleep  which  bridged  the  time  so 
thoroughly  that,  when  the  station-master's  key 
turned  in  the  door,  she  thought  he  had  come 
back  for  some  forgotten  duty. 

"All  right,  sis ?"  he  asked,  rather  anxiously, 
flashing  the  lantern  around  the  room. 

"  O,  yes,  thank  you,  sir;  and  I've  had  a  nice 
sleep,"  was  the  answer,  as  Marion  slipped  her 
feet  upon  the  floor  hastily  and  began  to  walk 
about. 

There  was  the  sound  of  wheels  not  long  after, 
and,  suspecting  what  it  meant,  she  slipped  out  of 
the  waiting-room  and,  standing  in  the  deep 


WATCHING  AND  WAITING.  237 

shadows  of  the  building,  watched  the  sphinx  and 
her  party  arrive. 

The  man  sprang  out  first  and  said  something 
so  softly  she  could  not  hear,  but  she  heard  Elfie's 
voice  fretfully  objecting  to  something.  The  man 
seemed  to  be  trying  to  induce  her  to  come  to 
him,  and  finally  reached  in  and  lifted  her  out 
gently.  Marion  almost  screamed  as  the  light 
from  a  window  fell  on  the  little  head,  from  which 
the  beautiful  long  curls  had  been  closely  shorn, 
and  lit  up  the  shivering  figure  that  was  now 
dressed  in  boy's  clothes. 

"  Come  along  with  me,  Johnny,  boy,"  said 
Madame  Belotti,  jumping  hastily  from  the  car- 
riage and  lifting  the  seeming  boy  in  her  arms. 

"  He  needs  more  medicine,"  said  the  man,  sig- 
nificantly, "  some  nice,  sweet  medicine  to  make 
Johnny  sleep  good." 

Then  going  into  the  empty  waiting-room  he 
carefully  dropped  something  from  a  vial  upon 
a  lump  of  sugar,  which  the  woman  persuaded 
Elfie  to  take. 

Marion,  watching  through  the  window,  felt 
sure  they  were  drugging  the  child  to  make  her 
sleep,  and  was  in  agonies  of  fear  lest  they  should 
give  her  a  dangerous  quantity.  The  poor  child 

looked  sick,  too  ;  grief  and  fear  and  perhaps  the 
16 


238  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

frequent  administration  of  the  quieting  drops 
had  made  her  pale  and  dejected.  She  seemed 
very  docile,  and  laid  her  head  on  the  woman's 
shoulder  as  directed  and  soon  fell  asleep. 

A  veil  was  thrown  over  her  face  before  they 
took  her  into  the  car  and  laid  her  carefully 
down  upon  the  seat  with  her  head,  as  before, 
resting  on  the  lap  of  one  of  the  women. 

Marion  dared  not  risk  stopping  on  that  car, 
but  ran  quickly  through  it,  after  seeing  them 
seated,  and  took  her  place  in  the  next. 

When  morning  came,  still  keeping  out  of  El- 
fie's  sight,  she  kept  watch  of  the  party,  who 
seemed  to  have  made  another  change  in  their 
plans ;  for  instead  of  going  on  to  New  York 
they  took  a  hack  on  reaching  Troy  and  drove  to 
the  Secor  House.  Marion  heard  the  direction 
given  to  the  driver,  who  drove  so  deliberately 
that  even  without  running  all  the  way  she  kept 
them  in  sight. 


IN  TROY.  239 


CHAPTER    XXX. 

IN    TROY. 

THERE  was  an  unpretending  restaurant  op- 
posite the  Secor  House,  where,  just  as  Marion 
reached  it,  a  middle-aged  man  with  a  delightfully 
good-natured  look  upon  his  rather  plain  face 
was  taking  down  the  shutters. 

"  Is  it  too  early  for  me  to  have  some  breakfast 
in  your  saloon?"  she  asked.  "If  I  just  had 
a  glass  of  milk  and  some  bread  it  would  be 
enough." 

"  We  don't  generally  serve  meals  'fore  eight 
o'clock,"  said  the  man,  looking  at  her  keenly  but 
kindly  ;  "  but  if  that's  all  you  want,  and  you 
don't  mind  takin'  it  settin'  up  to  the  counter, 
why,  come  in." 

Marion  felt  quite  sure  the  party  were  intend- 
ing to  seclude  themselves  by  day  and  travel  by 
night,  but  she  knew  not  how  to  keep  them  in 
sight.  While  she  was  thinking  about  it  as  she 
sat  by  the  counter  eating  and  only  half  listening 
to  the  talkative  saloon-keeper  the  sound  of  a  blind 
thrown  back  fell  on  her  ear,  and,  glancing  up  at 


240  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

the  shabby  hotel  opposite,  she  saw  the  woman 
we  have  known  as  Madame  Belotti  turning  away 
from  an  upper  window. 

"  O,  Mr.  Jones,"  she  said,  having  learned  the 
good-natured  restaurant-keeper's  name  from  the 
highly  embellished  business  cards  which  filled  a 
tray  on  the  counter,  "  could  I  get  a  room  over 
there  in  that  hotel,  do  you  think?" 

"Of  course,  if  you've  got  the  money  to  pay 
for  it." 

"  But  I  thought  may  be  they  wouldn't  Jtake  in 
a  very  young  girl  without  any  older  person  with 
her.  They  might  be  afraid  I  wouldn't  pay,  you 
know." 

"  Secor  House  folks  aint  so  dreadful  particular 
as  the  tony  hotels,"  said  Mr.  Jones,  "and  if  you 
really  want  to  be  accommodated  over  there  I'll 
step  in  myself  and  speak  to  the  clerk.  I  know 
him  very  well." 

"  O,  thank  you,  sir ;  and  would  you  mind  ask- 
ing for  a  fourth-story  room  for  me,  and  will  you 
please  pay  for  me  till  to-morrow  morning?  "  and 
she  handed  him  her  new  little  purse  in  which  she 
had  put  five  dollars  and  some  change. 

"All  right;  you're  very  sensible;  it  will  be 
cheaper  than  the  second  or  third  story,"  said 
Mr.  Jones,  marching  off  on  his  errand  and  leav- 


IN  TROY.  241 

ing  Mrs.  Jones,  who  had  just  come  in  through  a 
back  door,  in  charge. 

He  soon  came  back  announcing  that  he  had 
secured  a  small  room  on  the  fourth  floor  and 
the  young  lady  might  go  to  it  as  soon  as  she 
liked.  He  handed  her  back  the  purse,  remark- 
ing that  she  was  too  trustful. 

"  It  happens  I'm  honest,"  he  said,  "  but  if  you 
go  passing  it  'round  that  way  you'll  likely  get 
sorry  'fore  you're  glad  ;  "  which  sentence  seemed 
to  please  himself  so  much  that  he  repeated  it 
several  times  at  short  intervals  with  many  saga- 
cious nods  of  his  gray  head,  while  his  wife  was 
making  a  little  conversation  with  Marion. 

It  was  a  back  room,  as  Mr.  Jones  had  said,  and, 
as  nearly  as  Marion  could  tell  when  a  slatternly 
servant-maid  conducted  her  to  it,  nearly  oppo- 
site the  one  where  the  woman  had  thrown  back 
the  blind.  There  was  an  open  transom  over 
that  door,  and  as  soon  as  Marion  found  herself 
alone  she  turned  the  key,  climbed  on  a  chair, 
and  opened  the  transom  over  her  own  door. 

All  through  the  long  morning  she  stood  un- 
wearied at  her  post,  balancing  herself  on  the 
back  of  the  chair  to  make  herself  tall  enough, 
hearing  the  sound  of  voices  in  the  room  oppo- 
site, but  unable  to  distinguish  any  words.  Once, 


242  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

indeed,  she  heard  Elfie  sobbing  softly,  and  the 
sound  wrung  her  heart.  The  child  seemed  hard 
to  soothe,  but  after  a  time  the  sobs  gradually 
ceased,  and  the  listener  imagined  the  little  thing 
had  fallen  asleep  again. 

Soon  after  there  was  a  knock  at  the  door,  and 
Marion  sprang  softly  from  her  chair,  and,  open- 
ing it,  found  a  hall-boy. 

"They  sent  me  up  to  tell  you,"  he  began,  as 
soon  as  he  saw  her,  "that  the  11:55  train  you 
ordered  the  carriage  for  is  took  off,  and  you  can't 
go  till  1:40." 

"  I  think  you  have  come  to  the  wrong  room," 
said  Marion. 

"  Number  39,  fourth  story,"  said  the  boy. 

"  This  is  Number  38,"  said  Marion. 

"  O,  then,  I'm  on  the  wrong  side,"  said  the 
boy.  "  I  aint  been  here  but  one  day,  and  I  got 
turned  round.  Number  39  must  be  across  the 
hall." 

He  knocked  at  the  opposite  door,  and  Marion, 
with  her  door  imperceptibly  ajar,  saw  the  hooked- 
nosed  young  man,  after  a  moment  of  conversa- 
tion, come  out  and  walk  rapidly  down  the  hall 
with  the  boy.  He  came  back  in  half  an  hour, 
and  Marion,  from  the  position  she  had  resumed 
at  the  transom,  could  hear  tones  of  angry  disap- 


IN  TROY.  243 

pointment  from  the  women,  to  whom' he  seemed 
to  be  telling  something.  Once  she  thought  she 
caught  the  words : 

"  It  will  make  us  miss  the  express  in  New 
York!" 

She  felt  convinced  that  they  were  going  on 
the  train  the  boy  spoke  of,  but  she  had  no  way 
of  telling  whether  it  was  a  day  or  night  train. 
The  noon  whistles  were  blowing  then,  so  she 
would  not  have  to  wait  long  to  find  out. 

The  next  two  hours  were  very  agitating.  One 
and  another  of  the  party  opposite  kept  leaving 
their  rooms,  but  as  they  never  all  left  together 
she  thought  probably  they  \vent  down  to  dine. 

A  waiter  brought  up  a  tray  with  dinner  for  the 
sick  boy,  Marion  heard  him  say,  as  he  knocked 
on  the  door. 

At  last  she  heard  a  distant  clock  striking  three, 
and  knew  their  1:40  was  a  night-train.  She 
ventured  then  to  go  over  to  the  restaurant  for 
her  own  dinner. 

She  was  hungry  enough  to  long  to  go  into  the 
saloon  at  the  back  and  order  a  comfortable  din- 
ner, but  she  wanted  to  keep  the  hotel  door  in  sight, 
so  she  asked  good-natured  Mrs.  Jones,  who  was 
now  on  duty  in  place  of  her  husband,  if  she 
might  have  bread  and  milk  at  the  counter  again. 


244  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

and,  receiving  permission,  took  her  seat  where 
she  could  see  every  one  who  went  in  and  out  of 
the  Secor  House. 

Mrs.  Jones  suggested  sandwiches  and  pie  as 
becoming  adjuncts  to  a  counter  lunch,  and 
Marion  gladly  partook  of  them  and  ordered  a 
package  of  the  former  tied  up  for  future  needs. 

She  lingered  as  long  as  she  could  over  her 
lunch,  quite  enjoying  the  company  of  Mrs.  Jones, 
who  asked  no  questions,  but  comfortably  gave 
quite  a  biography  of  herself. 

It  was  not  an  hour  when  customers  were  plenty, 
so  there  were  few  interruptions.  Marion  felt  so 
desolate  and  lonely  that  being  with  this  nice 
motherly  woman  was  very  cheering,  and  she  felt 
as  safe  about  Elfie  there,  with  the  window  of  her 
room  in  sight,  as  she  did  when  in  the  hotel ;  so, 
seeing  Mrs.  Jones's  futile  efforts  to  keep  the 
glasses  on  her  broad  nose  while  she  took  a  few 
stitches  in  Mr.  Jones's  socks,  she  asked  permis- 
sion to  take  the  work  out  of  her  hands,  and  soon 
found  herself  comfortably  seated  behind  the 
counter  on  a  low  chair  close  by  the  large  window, 
with  a  basket  of  stockings  in  her  lap,  cheerfully 
bridging  the  appalling  chasms  in  Mr.  Jones's 
neglected  gray  socks  with  blue  darning  cotton, 
that  being  the  only  color  afforded  by  the  basket. 


IN  TROY.  245 

She  worked  till  it  was  too  dark  to  see  the  op- 
posite house  readily,  and,  taking  a  paper  of  candy 
which  Mrs.  Jones  gratefully  insisted  on  giving 
her  with  a  kiss,  went  back  to  her  room  on  the 
fourth  floor. 


246  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 


CHAPTER    XXXI. 

AN     EXCITING     NIGHT. 

SOME  one  had  brought  in  a  pitcher  of  water 
and  had  lit  her  gas,  so  she  sat  down  and  tried  to 
keep  herself  composed  by  crocheting  on  her 
wool  lace. 

There  was  no  way  of  finding  out  the  time, 
but  after  some  hours  the  house  grew  very  still 
and  she  felt  sure  it  was  late.  Mrs.  Jones  had 
told  her  they  kept  the  saloon  open  till  twelve, 
an  hour  later  than  they  would,  she  said,  if  they 
did  not  live  there  in  the  building. 

Crossing  the  big  hall  there  was  a  narrow  one, 
with  a  front  window  in  the  end,  and  two  or  three 
times,  when  Marion  grew  very  lonely,  she  turned 
down  her  light  and  stole  down  to  this  window, 
taking  some  comfort  in  seeing  the  bright  light 
shining  opposite  and  knowing  that  friendly  peo- 
ple were  almost  within  call. 

On  her  last  trip  to  gather  this  small  comfort 
she  found  the  saloon  dark,  and  the  deep  shadow 
cast  by  the  shed-roof  above  the  door  made  it 
seem  black  as  the  entrance  to  a  cavern.  The 


AN  EXCITING  NIGHT.  247 

sight  made  her  feel  lonely  and  forsaken,  but  the 
darkness  told  her  twelve  o'clock  had  passed  and 
the  time  was  coming  near  when  she  must  follow 
Elfie.  She  could  find  the  station,  she  thought, 
even  if  the  carriage  went  too  fast  for  her ;  but  it 
was  frightful  to  think  of  going  through  the 
lonely  city  streets  at  that  hour  of  the  night. 

"  I  will  not  think  about  it,"  she  said  to  herself. 
"  God  is  in  the  dark  as  well  as  in  the  light.  He 
will  take  care  of  me,  and  for  Elfie's  sake  I  can  do 
any  thing." 

There  were  sounds  of  movement  in  the  room 
opposite,  and  Marion,  who  had  long  before 
turned  out  her  light  to  avoid  observation  and 
taken  her  position  on  the  chair  again,  listened 
patiently  at  the  transom. 

After  a  while  she  heard  the  man  leave  the 
room  softly  and  go  down-stairs,  and  then  an  oc- 
casional fretful  sound  from  Elfie,  as  if  she  was 
being  roused  from  sleep.  The  man  came  back 
presently,  and  Marion  heard  him  say  as  he  re- 
entered  the  room  : 

"  The  carriage  has  come.  It  is  too  soon,  but 
we  had  better  go." 

Marion  softly  opened  her  door  a  half  inch 
then,  and  through  the  crack  saw  one  of  the 
women  put  Elfie  carefully  into  the  man's  arms, 


248  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

telling  him  to  sit  down  on  the  sofa  in  the  hall 
till  she  put  on  her  hat  ;  then,  with  the  door  open, 
she  turned  up  the  gas — probably  they  had  left 
the  room  dark  to  keep  Elfie  asleep — and  began 
to  arrange  her  hair  hurriedly  at  the  glass. 

The  other  woman  was  rapidly  packing  some 
things  into  a  bag.  In  the  hall  close  by  Marion's 
room  was  an  old  hair-cloth  sofa,  and,  cautiously 
opening  her  door  a  trifle  farther,  she  saw  the 
man  sitting  there  with  Elfie  sleeping  in  his  arms. 
In  a  moment  he  seemed  suddenly  to  remember 
something  important,  and,  carefully  laying  the 
child,  still  asleep,  down  upon  the  sofa,  he  walked 
quickly  back  to  the  room,  while  the  door,  which 
he  moved  in  passing  along,  closed  behind  him. 

A  wild  thought  leaped  into  Marion's  mind. 

"  O,  dare  I  ?  shall  I  ?  "  she  asked  herself.  Then, 
with  a  silent  cry  in  her  heart  for  help  from  God, 
she  sprang  into  the  hall,  lifted  the  heavily  sleep- 
ing child  in  her  arms,  and  was  back  in  her  own 
room  with  her  in  an  instant.  She  laid  her  gently 
on  the  bed  and  locked  the  door,  with  her  head 
swimming  and  her  heart  beating  so  madly  it 
seemed  to  rise  clear  up  in  her  throat  and  nearly 
strangle  her. 

"  What  next  ?  what  next  ?  "  she  kept  asking 
herself  as  she  stood  trembling  by  the  door, 


Ax  EXCITING  NIGHT.  249 

thinking,  perhaps,  it  might  be  soon  broken  down 
and  some  rapid  and  terrible  vengeance  taken 
upon  her. 

In  a  few  moments  there  was  a  smothered  com- 
motion in  the  hall.  They  had  missed  Elfie  and 
were  looking  wildly  about  for  her.  At  first  they 
evidently  thought  she  had  roused  herself  and 
wandered  off,  and  they  searched  halls  and  stairs. 
At  last  there  was  a  sound  of  rapid  feet  on  the 
stairs,  and  the  clerk,  in  some  excitement,  fol- 
lowed the  man  up  to  Number  39,  exclaiming 
in  less  guarded  tones  than  the  others  were  using 
that  the  thing  was  impossible  ;  no  one  could  or 
would  have  interfered  with  the  child. 

Then,  in  answer  to  some  proposition,  Marion 
heard  him  say  indignantly  : 

"  What !  Rout  up  all  our  boarders  at  this 
hour  of  the  night  ?  No,  sir,  not  for  any  money 
would  I  do  it !  There's  been  too  much  noise 
made  already." 

But  at  last  he  seemed  to  consent,  and  himself 
knocked  at  every  door,  apologizing  for  the  dis- 
turbance, asking  if  any  one  had  seen  a  little  boy 
that  a  traveler  had  lost. 

The  inquiry  seemed  very  startling,  and  many 
people  left  their  rooms  with  cloaks  or  ulsters 
thrown  about  them  to  gather  particulars  of  the 


250  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

strange  disappearance.  Marion  felt  sure  that 
Elfie  had  received,  in  preparation  for  a  long 
journey,  a  large  dose  of  the  quieting  drops  ,  so 
with  little  fear  of  waking  her  she  lifted  her  from 
the  bed  and  laid  her,  with  a  pillow  under  her  head, 
upon  the  floor  close  by  the  wall  under  the  bed,  first 
moving  it  away,  and  then,  as  silently  as  she  could, 
rolling  it  back  to  its  place,  thus  entirely  conceal- 
ing the  child,  who  never  stirred  through  it  all. 

Then  she  jumped  into  bed  herself,  and,  when 
the  expected  inquiry  came,  called  out  sleepily : 

"  No  ;  I  have  seen  no  little  boy." 

Even  as  she  spoke  the  child  under  the  bed 
turned  uneasily  and  groaned.  A  cold  perspira- 
tion bathed  Marion  from  head  to  foot.  She 
thought  all  was  lost,  but  there  were  people  talk- 
ing excitedly  in  the  hall,  and  the  small  sound 
was  drowned  by  the  large. 

The  landlord,  Marion  learned  by  some  remarks 
called  out  by  his  appearance,  had  now  joined  the 
party. 

"  What  right  has  any  one  to  make  such  a  dis- 
turbance?" he  asked,  irritably.  "  If  your  son  is 
really  missing,  madam,  then  the  proper  way  for 
us  will  be  to  summon  a  detective.  I  can  get  one 
here  in  ten  minutes  by  the  telephone." 

It  is  not  probable  that  Madame  Belotti  wished 


AN  EXCITING  NIGHT.  251 

for  the  services  of  a  detective,  even  in  view  of 
the  calamity  which  had  befallen  her,  for  she  said 
hastily : 

"  I — I — can't  wait.  We  must  go  on  the  next 
train,  because  a  friend  who  is  dying  in  New  York 
has  telegraphed  for  us." 

There  was  a  distinct  murmur  of  surprise  among 
the  spectators,  who  must  have  thought  madame 
quite  unmotherly  in  spite  of  the  great  anxiety 
she  had  lately  shown. 

The  halls  grew  very  quiet,  and  Marion  drew 
the  bed  away  from  the  wall  so  that  the  air  might 
reach  the  little  sleeper,  and,  not  daring  to  lift 
her  to  the  bed  for  fear  farther  search  might  be 
made,  sat  down  on  the  floor  by  her,  happy  to 
hold  her  little  hand  in  hers,  although  not  yet 
daring  to  believe  she  had  really  rescued  her. 

But  she  was  not  disturbed  again,  and  when 
daylight  stole  in  through  the  closed  blinds  there 
was  such  a  profound  stillness  all  over  the  house 
that  the  tired  girl's  watchfulness  relaxed  and 
she  willingly  yielded  to  the  sleepiness  she  had 
been  resolutely  fighting  off,  and,  tenderly  putting 
Elfie  into  the  bed,  she  lay  down  beside  her  and 
slept  till  the  sun  was  so  bright  that  she  was  quite 
sure  it  must  be  after  ten  o'clock. 


252  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 


CHAPTER  XXXII, 

A  DEEP  SLEEP. 

LATE  though  it  was,  Elfie  was  still  sleepy  and 
looked  in  the  bright  daylight  so  worn  and  hol- 
low-eyed that  Marion  longed  to  wake  her,  the 
sleep  seemed  so  death-like.  She  was  very  much 
puzzled  about  what  to  do  next.  Sending  a  tele- 
gram to  Mrs.  Abbott  was  naturally  of  the  first 
importance,  but  she  would  not  leave  Elfie  long 
enough  to  do  it.  True,  she  might  lock  her  in 
the  room  while  she  ran  out  to  send  a  dispatch, 
but  in  that  time  the  child  might  wake  and  cry 
ou4^  and  be  discovered  at  once.  She  thought 
Madame  Belotti's  party  had  gone,  but  possibly 
some  order  had  been  left  to  send  her  the  miss« 
ing  child  when  found,  or  one  of  the  women  might 
be  waiting  in  the  neighborhood. 

A  loud  knocking  at  the  door  startled  her  out 
of  her  perplexed  musings. 

"  Who  is  it  ?  "  she  asked,  going  close  to  the 
door,  but  not  unlocking  it. 

"  Is  there  anny  wan  at  all  in  the  room  ?  "  was 
the  answer. 


A  DEEP  SLEEP.  253 

"Yes,  I  am  here." 

"  Well,  it  'd  take  more  sinse  than  there  is  in 
mesilf  to  know  who  '  Oi  '  is.  It  is  mebby  the 
young  leddy  the  dark  tould  us  took  board  here 
from  yisterday  till  the  day,  and  has  never  come 
to  the  dining-room  yit  for  a  drink  nor  a  crumb  ?  " 

"Yes,  that's  me,"  said  Marion,  thinking  hard 
over  an  idea  that  had  suggested  itself  to  her, 
and  which  she  decided  to  follow  if  the  owner 
of  the  voice  that  was  answering  her  looked 
trustworthy.  She  opened  the  door  enough  then 
to  get  a  peep  at  a  big,  good-natured  Irish 
woman  with  the  fine,  fresh  coloring  and  inno- 
cent, unsophisticated  look  that  is  only  worn  by 
the  newest  importations  from  the  "  swatest  gim 
o'  the  say."  One  look  at  the  pleasant,  honest 
face  determined  her. 

"  Will  you  do  me  a  favor  ?  "  she  asked  very 
softly,  fearing  terribly  that  the  sound  of  her 
voice  might  rouse  Elfie  into  a  wild  outcry. 

"  That  will  Oi,  indade  that  will  Oi,"  was  the 
quick  response,  made  more  cheerful,  perhaps,  by 
seeing  a  half-dollar  held  out  in  Marion's  fingers. 
"  Is  it  breakfast  ye'll  be  wanting  brought  up  till 
yer  room  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I   do  wish   you  'd  bring  me    up  some 

breakfast,"  said  Marion,  thinking  more  of  Elfie 
17 


254  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

than  herself,  "  and  a  glass  of  milk  with  it,  for  I 
don't  want  to  go  to  the  dining-room.  But  that 
was  not  the  favor  I  meant ;  I  want  you  to  go  over 
to  the  restaurant  across  the  street  for  me  and  tell 
Mrs.  Jones  that  the  little  girl  who  mended  stock- 
ings for  her  yesterday  afternoon  is  not  well,  and 
if  she  will  come  over  here  for  a  few  minutes  ;  and 
please  bring  her  right  up  to  this  room.  After 
that  you  may  bring  me  up  the  breakfast,  please." 

"  Really,  it  is  true,  I  am  not  well,"  said  Mar- 
ion to  herself,  in  excuse  for  the  plea  upon  which 
she  had  summoned  Mrs.  Jones,  who,  in  about 
five  minutes,  came  lumbering  up  the  stairs,  quite 
out  of  breath  with  their  steepness. 

Her  fat,  honest  face  looked  full  of  sympathy 
as  she  came  in  the  room,  escorted  by  the  maid, 
who  shut  the  door  and  left  them  together. 

"  I  hope  you  aint  sickening  down  for  scarlet 
fever  or  dipthery,  or  any  of  those  dangerous 
things,  an'  you  so  far  off  from  home,"  said  she, 
looking  anxiously  at  Marion's  flushed  face  and 
heavy  eyes. 

"No,  no,  Mrs.  Jones;  there  is  nothing  the 
matter  with  me  but  fatigue  and  worry ;  but  you 
are  lovely  to  come,  and  I  will  never  forget  your 
kindness.  I  am  in  great  trouble  and  must  have 
help  from  somebody." 


A  DEEP  SLEEP.  255 

Then  good  Mrs.  Jones,  instead  of  shrinking 
away  with  the  feeling  strangers  often  have  that 
a  young  person  all  alone  in  a  strange  place  had 
probably  brought  her  trouble,  whatever  it  was 
upon  herself  and  therefore  deserved  it,  took  her 
on  her  lap  as  she  sat  in  the  straight-backed  little 
rocking-chair,  and,  smoothing  back  her  curly 
hair,  murmured  : 

"  There,  there,  poor  little  thing !  "  as  if  she 
had  been  a  tired  baby.  "  Tell  me  all  about  it, 
dearie,  and  pa  and  me  between  us  can  likely  help 
you  out  some  way." 

Marion  could  not  doubt  her,  so  as  rapidly  as 
she  could  she  told  her  how  she  had  followed 
Elfie  and  now  had  rescued  her  from  the  people 
who  had  undoubtedly  been  hired  to  steal  her  by 
those  who  had  an  interest  in  getting  possession 
of  her. 

"And  now,"  said  Mrs.  Jones,  who  had  con- 
stantly interrupted  the  story  with  exclamations, 
questions,  and  conjectures,  "  you  had  better 
bring  the  little  dear  right  over  to  my  place." 

"No,  no,  Mrs.  Jones;  I  dare  not  do  that.  I 
cannot  let  any  one  see  Elfie  or  know  that  I  have 
her  here  till  I  can  get  Mrs.  Abbott.  Madame 
Belotti  or  some  of  those  people  may  be  hiding 
and  watching,  and  if  they  saw  Elfie  and  claimed 


256  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

her  how  could  I  prove  that  I  had  a  right  to 
keep  her  from  them  ?  " 

"  My  gracious  !  Aint  she  got  a  wise  old  head 
on  her  young  shoulders?"  said  Mrs.  Jones,  shak- 
ing her  own  head  at  the  bowl  and  pitcher  on 
the  washstand  as  if  they  were,  like  herself,  lost 
in  admiration  of  such  youthful  sagacity. 

"  What  I  hope  you  will  do  for  me,  Mrs.  Jones, 
is  to  go  and  telegraph  to  Mrs.  Abbott." 

"  Of  course  I  will ;  what  shall  I  say  ?  " 

"  I've  pricked  the  message  all  down  with  a 
pin  on  the  inside  of  an  envelope  I  had  in  my 
pocket  ;  I  Jiad  no  pencil.  I  will  read  it  to 
you,  but  if  you  forget  you  can  make  it  out 
again  from  this,  I  know ;  or  if  you  will  lay  this 
on  a  clean  sheet  of  paper  and  rub  dry  bluing 
on  it  it  will  mark  down  the  words  plainly.  I 
have  often  done  embroidery  patterns  that  way 
at  school." 

Mrs.  Jones  gave  another  admiring  shake  of 
her  head  toward  the  washbowl  and  pitcher,  and 
rose  to  go  on  her  errand,  promising  to  come 
back  directly. 

"COVENTRY  SCHOOL:  Elfie  is  with  me. 
Come  at  once  to  the  Secor  House,  Troy,  N.  Y. 

"  M.  A.  STUBBS." 


A  DEEP  SLEEP.  257 

So  ran  the  dispatch  which  Marion  had  pricked 
upon  the  paper  after  a  fashion  she  had  learned 
from  the  girls  at  school  for  copying  and  trans- 
ferring braiding  patterns. 

Sally,  the  good-natured  maid,  came  to  the 
door  then  with  a  tray  of  breakfast  which  Mar- 
ion put  on  the  table  and  partook  of  very  spar- 
ingly, reserving  the  best  for  Elfie,  who  still  slept 
on,  although  it  was  almost  twelve  o'clock. 

There  were  three  little  taps  with  a  finger-nail 
on  the  door  in  about  half  an  hour,  and  Marion, 
recognizing  the  signal  agreed  upon,  let  in  Mrs. 
Jones,  who  had  sent  off  the  dispatch,  and  as  the 
result  of  talking  over  the  matter  with  "  pa,"  to 
whom  some  explanation  of  her  visit  to  the  hotel 
had  to  be  made,  had  thought  of  a  new  cause  for 
anxiety,  which  was  a  possibility  that  Elfie's  long 
sleep  might  be  the  effect  of  an  overdose  of  the 
quieting  drops. 

"  And  pa,"  said  Mrs.  Jones,  "  advises  waking 
of  her  up  directly,  and,  if  it  can't  be  done,  get- 
ting in  a  doctor  to  see  her." 

Frightful  fears  suggested  themselves  to  Mar- 
ion as  Mrs.  Jones  gave  "  pa's  "  impressive  ad- 
vice, and  she  turned  Elfie's  face  toward  her  and 
gently  tried  to  awaken  her ;  it  was  not  an  easy 
thing  to  do,  but  at  last  the  heavy  lids  were  lifted, 


258  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

and,  with  a  little  fretful  cry  Marion  had  never 
heard  from  her  till  the  night  before,  she  had 
lifted  her  head  up  and  looked  around. 

"  Marion  is  with  you ;  look,  look,  dear,  it  is 
your  own  Marion.  Can't  you  see  me  ?  Don't 
you  know  me  ?  " 

The  child  looked  up  at  her  sleepily  a  moment 
with  neither  wonder  nor  recognition  in  her  eyes, 
and  then  laid  her  head  on  the  pillow  and  slept 
again. 


MARION  is  HAPPY.  259 


CHAPTER  XXXIII. 

MARIOX     IS     HAPPY. 

"THEM  tiger-cats  has  got  somethin'  to  answer 
for,"  Mrs.  Jones  said  fiercely,  "  ef  they've 
given  that  poor  lamb  laudlum  enough  to  hurt 
her !  " 

"  There  must  be  some  antidote  for  it,"  said 
Marion,  whose  white  lips  trembled  so  with  ftar 
that  she  could  hardly  speak.  "  I  will  have  a 
doctor  if  you  will  tell  me  whom  to  have.  Surely 
he  wouldn't  tell  any  one  about  Elfie  if  you  asked 
him  not  to." 

"  Doctor  Mitchell  wouldn't  tell  any  thing  we 
didn't  want  him  to,"  said  Mrs.  Jones  ;  "  but 
we'll  try  something  ourselves  first.  Strong 
coffee  is  a  good  wake-up,  I've  heard  tell ;  so's 
ginger  tea  and  foot-baths." 

But  all  of  the  home  remedies  failed  to  do 
much  good.  Elfie  waked  frequently  as  they 
pursued  their  kindly  efforts,  but  took  very  little 
notice  of  any  thing.  Once,  indeed,  as  she  sat 
on  Mrs.  Jones's  lap  with  her  feet  in  a  basin  of 
hot  water,  she  looked  down  at  the  little  jersey 


260  TlIK    FRIENDLY    FlVK. 

trousers  that  were  part  of  her  disguise ;  she 
shuddered  and  moaned  : 

"  O,  take  those  things  off,  take  them  off!  " 

Then  the  lethargy  overcame  her  again. 

"  I  am  going  over  home,"  said  Mrs.  Jones,  with 
tears  in  her  eyes,  "  to  bring  in  a  little  night-gown 
from  the  clothes  I  put  away  in  a  trunk  when  my 
little  Sarah  Jane  died  ten  years  ago.  It's  homely 
and  old-fashioned,  but  it's  more  decent  for  a 
little  girl  than  pants  and  jacket,  and  then  I 
guess  I  better  have  Dr.  Mitchell  come  in  and 
take  a  look.  He's  safe,  safe  and  sure  ;  you 
needn't  be  feared  of  him." 

The  doctor's  coming  to  see  a  sick  little  girl 
caused  no  surprise  to  clerk  and  landlord,  for 
they  supposed  it  was  JV-^rion  herself,  who,  the 
chamber-maid  had  told  them,  was  ill  and  had 
sent  for  Mrs.  Jones.  Marion  liked  Dr.  Mitchell 
at  once;  there  was  something  about  the  very 
tones  of  his  voice  that  gave  her  confidence,  but 
she  watched  him  anxiously  as  he  carefully  ex- 
amined Elfie  and  asked  a  few  questions  which 
Marion  was  not  afraid  to  answer,  although  to 
account  for  the  condition  in  which  he  found  the 
child  she  was  obliged  to  tell  something  of  their 
experience  for  the  last  two  days. 

He  was  much  interested,  and  promised  to  find 


MARION  is  HAPPY.  261 

out  for  her  what  time  Mrs.  Abbott  could  arrive, 
and  he  said  Elfie  was  suffering  from  the  com- 
bined effects  of  fright  and  the  continuous  admin- 
istration of  some  anodyne.  She  was  very  fever- 
ish and  must  be  kept  quiet.  He  ordered  some 
medicine,  and  promised  to  come  in  again  in  two 
hours. 

She  was  less  feverish  when  he  made  his  second 
call,  and  her  sleep  seemed  more  natural.  He 
told  Marion  it  was  very  important  that  when 
she  should  recognize  any  one  her  eyes  should 
only  rest  upon  familiar  faces.  So  Marion  never 
for  a  moment  left  her  chair  by  the  bed  or  let  go 
her  clasp  of  the  little  hand.  Good  Mrs.  Jones 
came  and  went,  spending  all  the  time  she  could 
with  them,  and  bringing  over  on  one  of  her 
visits  a  tempting  package  of  oranges  and 
bananas. 

There  was  a  gentle  knock  at  the  door  at  nine 
o'clock,  and  Marion,  softly  rising  and  unlocking 
it,  was  folded  in  Mrs.  Abbott's  arms. 

Candace  was  with  her.  As  she  said  herself, 
rheumatism  couldn't  keep  her  back  from  her 
darling  baby.  She  went  directly  to  the  bedside, 
and  tears  poured  down  her  dark  face  as  she 
looked  at  the  pale  Jittle  face  she  loved  more 
than  life.  She  lifted  her  gently  to  her  shoulders. 


262  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

and,  sitting  in  the  rocker,  began  to  rock  and 
sing  as  if  Elfie  was  a  baby : 

"  Ullallah,  ullallah,  baby  dear  ;  ullallah,  ullal- 
lah,  mammy's  near  !  " 

Over  and  over  she  sang  the  simple  lullaby 
which  was  a  song  that  she  had  hushed  the  child 
to  sleep  with  every  night  of  her  babyhood,  and 
at  the  old,  familiar  sound,  Elfie's  eyelids  fluttered, 
then  opened  and  looked  into  the  honest,  loving 
black  face  above  them,  murmuring  : 

"  Mammy,  own  mammy !  " 

Then  with  one  or  two  long  shuddering  sighs 
she  nestled  down  upon  the  cushiony  shoulders. 

Doctor-  Mitchell,  who  was  waiting  for  her 
down-stairs,  followed  Mrs.  Abbott  to  the  room. 
He  nodded  his  satisfaction  as  Elfie  recognized 
her  nurse,  and,  beckoning  the  others  out  of  the 
room,  advised  leaving  her  with  Candace. 

"  For  the  present  she  is  safe,"  he  said,  "  but  it 
may  be  long  before  her  nerves  recover  from  the 
great  strain  of  the  last  few  days." 

The  clerk,  at  a  hint  from  Mrs.  Jones,  now 
came  up  with  great  politeness  and  offered  Mrs. 
Abbott  the  room  vacated  by  Madame  Belotti. 

"  Now,  my  dear,  dear  Marion,"  she  said,  as 
the  happy  girl  followed  her  into  the  room,  "  tell 
me  all  about  it." 


MARION  is  HAPPY.  263 

But  before  Marion  told  one  word  of  her  ad- 
venturous journey  she  put  the  diminished  pack- 
age of  bills  in  her  hand  with  : 

"  O,  Mrs.  Abbott,  it  did  seem  so  much  like 
stealing  to  use  your  money!" 

"  My  darling" — and  the  tears  fell  fast  from 
Mrs.  Abbott's  eyes — "  we  owe  you  every  thing. 
Xo  money  can  ever  pay  you  for  saving  our  Elfie. " 

Then  Marion,  with  her  hands  tightly  clasped 
in  her  friend's,  told  all  the  story  of  her  pursuit 
of  the  child. 

"It  is  wonderful,  wonderful,"  said  Mrs.  Ab- 
bott, when  she  had  finished  ;  "  you  have  shown 
more  sense  and  judgment  than  most  older  people 
possess,  and  your  bravery  is  beyond  praise.  O, 
my  dear,  how  much  you  have  undergone  for 
that  darling !  " 

In  the  morning  Elfie  was  still  better,  and  Mrs. 
Abbott  went  down  with  Marion  to  breakfast, 
the  latter  being  the  object  of  intense  interest  to 
every  one  in  the  house,  for  wild  reports  of  the 
story  had  gone  about,  and  Marion,  without 
wishing  it,  found  herself  famous  in  a  small  way. 

Sally,  the  smiling  and  rosy  chamber-maid,  laid 
various  traps  for  enticing  Candace  down-stairs  so 
she  might  extract  a  fuller  version  of  the  story 
from  her. 


264  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

"  But  ef  I  never  has  a  bit  of  food  again,"  said 
Candace,  solemnly,  "  I'll  not  let  my  lamb  out  of 
my  sight  till  we  gets  home  !  " 

The  good  news  was  telegraphed  back  to  Cov- 
entry school  with  a  demand  for  some  of  Elfie's 
clothes.  -  When  the  bag  containing  them  came 
Elfie,  very  white  and  weak,  was  propped  up  in 
bed  with  pillows,  with  her  loving  eyes  fixed  on 
Candace,  and  listening,  as  if  she  were  not  hearing 
it  for  the  hundredth  time,  to  her  repetition  of 
"  Water,  water,  quench  fire ;  fire,  fire,  burn 
stick;  stick,  stick,  beat  dog,"  etc. 

She  turned  as  the  little  dresses  were  taken 
from  the  bag,  exclaiming  : 

"  Elfie's  own  girlie  dresses !  O,  mammy, 
mammy,  they  dressed  Elfie  like  a  boy !  " 

They  did  not  know  till  then  that  she  had  re- 
covered the  recollection  of  her  experience  with 
the  Belottis,  but  after  that  she  talked  freely 
about  it,  and  was  told  how  Marion  had  been 
near  her  all  the  time,  but  had  not  dared  to  let 
herself  be  seen. 

"  Poor  Marion !  "  she  said,  throwing  her  arms 
lovingly  around  her  neck,  seeming  to  know  by 
instinct  how  hard  it  must  have  been  for  Marion 
to  refrain  from  letting  her  know  she  was  near. 

It  was  several  days  before  Dr.  Mitchell  felt  as 


MARION  is  HAPPY.  265 

if  it  was  quite  prudent  for  them  to  take  Elfie 
home,  and  when  they  went  Mrs.  Jones  went  too, 
having  been  persuaded  by  Mrs.  Abbott  to  give 
herself  a  week's  vacation. 

When  the  train  stopped  at  Coventry  only 
Miss  Blake  and  Robert,  the  man,  were  on  the 
platform  to  meet  them,  and  they  wrere  as  calm 
as  if  Mrs.  Abbott  was  only  returning  from  an  or- 
dinary business  trip,  such  as  she  often  took,  for 
in  her  letters  she  had  begged  that  there  should 
be  nothing  done  that  might  cause  Elfie  any  ex- 
citement ;  but  on  the  side  piazza  of  the  station, 
keeping  well  out  of  sight,  was  nearly  every  girl 
who  attended  the  school. 

Miss  Blake,  after  seeing  the  others  into  the 
carryall,  brought  Marion  around  to  the  expectant 
crowd,  who  surrounded  her  with  cries  of  enthu- 
siastic delight.  The  story  had  been  verysketch- 
ily  told  in  a  letter  from  Mrs.  Abbott,  and  all  the 
way  home  the  girls  were  clamorous  for  more  par- 
ticulars, which  Marion  was  very  modest  about 
giving.  But  her  reserve  did  not  matter  so  much 
for  the  moment,  for  the  others  were  beginning 
to  tell  her  of  their  own  fright  and  distress  about 
Elfie. 

"  Tell  me,"  said  Marion,  so  softly  that  no  one 
heard  her  but  Lily  and  Katie,  who  were  walking 


266  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

with  their  arms  around  her,  "  did  any  one  think 
I  had  run  away. with  Mrs.  Abbott's  money?" 

"  No,  indeed  !  "  exclaimed  the  girls  in  the  same 
breath,  "  except  Edna." 

"  That  troubled  me  terribly,"  said  Marion. 
"  I  was  so  afraid  of  being  suspected  of  dis- 
honesty." 

"What  nonsense!"  said  Lily.  "Why,  Mrs. 
Abbott  told  us  it  was  the  greatest  comfort  to 
know  you  had  the  money." 

"  But  why  did  Edna  think  I  was  so  wicked  ?" 

"  I  suppose  because  she  is  so  mean  herself," 
said  Lily.  "  And  you  see  she  was  so  dreadfully 
blamed  by  every  body  for  taking  Elfie  out  of  the 
gate  that  she  wanted  to  make  it  appear  that 
other  girls  would  do  wicked  things  as  well  as  she 
could." 

"She  wasn't  the  only  one  to  blame  for  going 
out  of  the  gate,"  said  Katie,  sorrowfully. 

"  No,  indeed,  and  we  all  insisted  on  sharing  the 
blame  with  her,  as  we  ought  to !  O,  Marion, 
it  was  heart-breaking  to  see  Candace's  agony,  and 
Mrs.  Abbott  kept  saying,  '  What  shall  I  say  to 
her  grandfather?  '  It  was  an  awful  house  here,  I 
can  tell  you.  I  wouldn't  live  through  the  fright 
and  worry  again  for  the  world." 

"Mrs.  Abbott  has  decided  now  not  to  tell  Mr. 


MARION  is  HAPPY.  267 

Bellamy  any  thing  about  it  till  he  comes  home, 
hasn't  she?"  said  Marion. 

"Yes;  she  thinks  that  is  best,"  said  Katie, 
"  because  it's  all  right  now ;  but,  Marion,  you 
should  have  seen  Candace  when  that  queer  tel- 
egram came  from  '  A.  Manning  !  '  Who  in  the 
world  is  it?  we  thought.  May  be  you  were  some- 
where under  an  assumed  name." 

"  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it  by  and  by  ;  but  what 
did  Candace  say?  " 

"  She  fell  on  her  knees  in  the  school-room  and 
clasped  her  arms  just  as  if  she  were  holding  El- 
fie  in  them.  '  Lord,  Lord,  let  old  Candace  see 
her  lamby  again  afore  she  dies  ! '  But  after 
that  she  sat  on  the  bottom  step  at  the  front  door 
waiting  for  another  telegram." 

That  evening  Mrs.  Abbott,  understanding  and 
fully  appreciating  Marion's  shrinking  from  pub- 
licity, sent  her  to  sit  with  Elfie  while  she  gave 
the  whole  family  a  graphic  account  of  the  pur- 
suit and  rescue,  being  aided  and  abetted  by  Mrs. 
Jones,  who  was  becoming  a  great  favorite  with 
the  girls. 

And  then  there  was  something  for  Mrs.  Abbott 
to  hear.  During  her  absence  Edna  had  tele- 
graphed to  her  mother  that  she  was  sick  and 
wanted  to  be  sent  for.  This  was  not  known  to 


268  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

any  one  at  the  time,  but  her  older  sister,  who 
came  for  her  the  next  day,  told  Miss  Blake  of  it. 
Certainly  Edna  was  not  very  well,  for  fright  and 
the  fear  of  punishment  had  taken  away  her  ap- 
petite and  brought  on  a  prostrating  headache  ;  so 
she  was  permitted  to  go  home  with  her  sister.  And 
hardly  had  Miss  Blake  made  this  explanation  to 
Mrs.  Abbott  when  a  letter  came  from  Mrs. 
Tryon,  in  which,  after  stating  that  Edna  ap- 
peared to  have  malaria,  for  which  her  family 
physician  prescribed  a  change  of  scene,  she 
had  decided  not  to  allow  her  to  return  to  school, 
at  least  for  the  present,  but  take  her  with  her  to 
Europe,  and,  if  her  stay  there  was  prolonged, 
place  her  in  an  English  school. 

There  was  a  great  feeling  of  relief  in  Mrs. 
Abbott's  mind  as  she  read  Mrs.  Tryon 's  letter, 
for  she  knew  she  should  have  to  punish  Edna  by 
expulsion  or  in  some  very  marked  way,  and  she 
was  not  sorry  to  have  it  taken  out  of  her  hands. 
But  the  P.  S.  amused  her  very  much  : 

"  P.  S.  Hearing  that  you  are  far  from  partic- 
ular about  the  social  standing  of  your  young 
ladies,  I  have  less  regret  in  removing  my  daughter 
than  if  you  only  kept  aristocratic  scholars,  for  I 
am  very  particular  about  my  children's  associ- 
ates." 


MARION  is  HAPPY.  269 

She  handed  the  letter  to  Miss  Blake,  who  read 
it  with  indignation,  and  then,  supposing  she 
was  expected  to  do  so,  although  Mrs.  Abbott 
had  not  intended  it,  passed  it  on  to  Mrs.  Jones. 

"  I  declare  !  "  said  that  lady,  when,  after  some 
struggling  with  her  spectacles,  she  had  mastered 
the  contents  and  read  the  signature,  Mrs.  B.  J. 
Tryon,  "  Belindy  Jones  Tryon  is  coming  on.  I 
guess  she  forgets  when  her  mother  kept  a  bake- 
shop  and  she  had  to  carry  around  rolls  for  cus- 
tomers' breakfasts,  and  her  brother — that's  my 
husband — was  proud  to  be  earning  money  get- 
ting out  of  bed  at  four  o'clock  to  go  around 
selling  newspapers.  He  aint  ashamed  of  his 
folks'  poverty.  His  sister  is,  and  she's  ashamed 
of  owning  them,  too  !  " 

There  was  an  immense  sensation  then,  when 
some  well-directed  questions  brought  out  the 
fact  that  the  lofty-minded  mother  of  their  ele- 
gant, high-born  Edna  was  really  the  sister-in- 
law  of  plain  Mrs.  Jones,  the  restaurant-keeper, 
and  Edna  herself  was  her  niece,  although  it  was 
quite  possible  that  the  knowledge  had  been 
kept  from  the  young  lady,  for  Mrs.  Jones  told 
them  that  long  ago  Mrs.  Tryon  had  given  up 
all  association  with  her  family  when  the  worthy 
young  carpenter,  who  had  married  her  for  her 
18 


270  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

pretty  face,  by  some  lucky  chance  was  taken 
into  a  building  firm  and  found  himself  on  the 
way  to  make  his  fortune. 

The  girls  had  promised  themselves  much  fun 
in  humbling  Edna's  pride,  and  were  disappointed 
on  finding  that  she  would  not  return. 

"  Not  even,"  said  Mrs.  Abbott,  "  if  the  English 
school  be  abandoned  and  her  mother  make  an 
application  to  re-enter  her  here.  I  am  sorry 
that  she  ever  came  here.  Even  if  she  had  not 
brought  upon  us  the  misfortune  of  losing  Elfie, 
I  should  deeply  regret  the  influence  she  has 
exerted  over  some  of  my  scholars — some,  too, 
whom  I  supposed  firm  enough  in  their  principles 
not  to  be  betrayed  into  violating  them." 

That  was  the  only  reproof  Mrs.  Abbott  ever 
gave  to  those  whose  folly  had  helped  to  make 
much  trouble.  She  had  thought  over  the  mat- 
ter and  talked  over  it  with  the  teachers,  and  it 
seemed  to  her  that  by  their  distress  at  the  evil 
consequences  that  had  followed  their  wrong- 
doing they  were  already  sorely  punished. 

It  was  many  months  before  Elfie  entirely  re- 
covered from  the  nervous  shock  she  had  suffered, 
and  came  among  the  girls  again.  Candace  could 
never  be  induced  to  trust  her  out  of  her  sight 
except  with  Marion. 


MARION  is  HAPPY.  271 

"  If  dat  dere  rheumatiz  goes  an'  curls  me  up 
like  a  whip-snake,"  she  said,  "  it  sha'n't  hinder 
me  crawlin'  'round  after  dat  lamby  !  " 

It  may  be  said  in  passing  that  the  blue  Tarn 
o'  Shanter  became  so  interesting  to  the  girls, 
after  hearing  the  share  Miss  Manning  had  in 
helping,  that  many  of  the  girls  wanted  them, 
and  when  Marion  wrote,  according  to  promise,  to 
tell  that  friendly  lady  the  sequel  to  her  journey, 
she  had  the  pleasure  of  encouraging  the  church- 
organ  scheme  by  ordering  six  blue  and  as  many 
red  caps. 


272  THE  FRIENDLY  FIYH. 


CHAPTER    XXXIV. 

THE     PRIZE     AWARDED. 

A  WHOLE  year  had  passed  since  Mr.  Bellamy 
had  made  the  memorable  address  to  the  Coven- 
try school  in  which  he  offered  a  prize  of  three 
hundred  dollars  to  the  most  deserving. 

He  had  come  from  England,  as  the  whole 
school  knew  by  his  telegram  to  Mrs.  Abbott, 
but  business  detained  him  in  New  York  for  a 
few  days,  as  they  also  learned  from  the  same 
source. 

Now  he  had  come  and  for  hours  had  been 
shut  in  the  parlor  with  Mrs.  Abbott,  Elfie, 
and  Candace,  hearing,  the  girls  all  supposed,  the 
history  of  that  year  which  had  brought  danger 
and  such  blessed  deliverance  from  it  to  his  grand- 
child. There  was  very  little  to  do  but  to  wait, 
for,  foreseeing  the  occupation  of  her  time  to- 
day, Mrs.  Abbott  had  yesterday  read  the  reports, 
given  the  averages,  made  her  "  little  preach," 
and  attended  to  all  the  few  ceremonies  of  school 
closing. 

"  'They  also  serve  who  only  stand  and  wait,' 


THE  PRIZE  AWARDED.  273 

I  have  understood,"  said  Lily,  "but  I  don't  be- 
lieve I  like  to  be  a  server." 

"  '  To  wait  is  to  conquer,'  "  quoted  Katie  from 
the  commonplace  book. 

"Conquer  what,  I  wonder?"  asked  Lily. 
"  Not  the  prize,  for  all  of  us  are  waiting,  and 
there  is  only  one  prize." 

"  What  do  you  think  you  conquer  by  waiting, 
Marion?"  asked  Miss  Blake  of  the  girl,  who  had 
been  showing  no  impatience,  but  busied  herself 
working  on  a  new  strip  of  her  favorite  fan-pat- 
tern lace. 

"  I  suppose,"  said  Marion,  thoughtfully,  "  by 
exercising  patience  we  conquer  our  own  restless 
spirits." 

"  Now,  Marion,"  said  Lily,  in  a  despairing 
tone,  "you're  going  to  turn  goody-goody,  I 
know  you  are !  You'll  live  to  be  a  female  ex- 
horter  or  something  horrid  of  that  sort  if  you 
get  off  such  solemn  sentences  as  that !  Extem- 
porate  in  your  callow  youth!  just  think  of  it! 
But  reflect  on  what  you're  giving  up,  for,  though 
I  love  you  to  distraction  now,  my  affection  is 
not  proof  against  preaching  ;  so  don't,  I  beseech 
you,  show  symptoms  of  it !  " 

For  answer  Marion  fired  a  big  air-filled  ball  of 

Elfie's  at  her  as  a  convincing  proof  that  she  was 

18 


274  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

not  utterly  given  over  to  solemnity,  and,  Lily 
gayly  returning  the  throw,  the  two  were  soon  so 
deeply  engaged  in  a  riotous  game  that  Mr.  Bel- 
lamy stood  smiling  at  them  in  the  door  for  some 
minutes  before  they  saw  him. 

The  general  confusion  which  was  allowable  be- 
cause school  had  virtually  closed  the  day  before 
being  instantly  quieted,  Mr.  Bellamy  took  his 
place  on  the  platform,  and,  looking  kindly  down 
on  the  bright  young  faces  upturned  to  him,  said  : 

"You  will  remember  me,  I  think,  and  give  me 
credit  for  keeping  my  engagement.  It  is  just 
one  year  since  I  spoke  to  you  before  and  offered 
a  prize  in  memory  of  my  daughter." 

Here  he  laid  upon  the  table  a  long  envelope. 

"  This,"  he  said,  "  contains  a  check  for  three 
hundred  dollars,  with  a  blank  yet  to  be  filled  in. 
What  name  is  to  fill  the  blank  is  indicated  by 
the  words  upon  the  envelope,  '  For  the  most  de- 
serving,' and  who  that  title  describes  I  am  going 
to  leave  you  to  decide.  My  little  Elfiewill  hand 
you  each  a  slip  of  paper  upon  which  I  beg  you 
to  write  the  name  of  the  one  whom  you  individ- 
ually think  most  worthy  of  the  prize  according 
to  your  own  estimation  of  the  word  'deserv- 
ing.'" 

Elfie  skipped  around  with  the  slips  of  paper, 


THE  PRIZE  AWARDED.  275 

and  after  ten  minutes,  which  were  spent  by  her 
grandfather  and  Mrs.  Abbott  in  earnest,  low- 
toned  conversation,  she  re-gathered  the  paper 
slips  in  a  little  covered  basket,  each  girl  folding 
her  paper  so  that  the  writing  was  concealed. 

"  Now  write  one  for  Elfie  and  one  for  Con- 
dace,"  said  the  child,  "'cause  we  can't  write  and 
we  both  want  the  same  girl  to  get  the  money." 

It  was  not  easy  to  make  her  understand  that 
none  but  pupils  were  allowed  a  vote,  and  she 
was  so  far  from  being  convinced  that  she  slipped 
two  papers  in  with  the  others  upon  which  she 
had  scribbled  some  hieroglyphics  which  she  un- 
derstood herself  if  no  one  else  could.  There 
were  thirty  papers  to  examine,  for  the  ten  dny- 
scholars  were  also  included  in  the  competition. 
Upon  examination  twenty-two  were  found  to 
bear  the  name  of  Marion  Stubbs  ! 

Her  face  was  scarlet  as  she  went  up  at  a  sign 
from  Mrs.  Abbott  to  receive  the  envelope,  Mr. 
Bellamy  having  put  her  name  on  the  check.  It 
was  in  her  mind  to  tell  him  that  she  did  not  feel 
deserving  of  such  good  fortune  ;  for,  aside  from 
the  pleasure  of  being  chosen  by  the  majority  of  her 
school  mates,  the  money  meant  more  to  Mar- 
ion than  it  would  to  any  other  girl  in  the 
school.  It  meant  added  comforts  for  the  deli- 


276  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

cate  mother  and  the  little  brothers  and  sisters, 
and  some  independence  of  feeling  in  regard  to 
her  own  clothes,  which  through  the  year  had 
been  provided  by  Mrs.  Abbott.  She  longed  to 
say  something  of  her  pleasure  and  gratitude, 
but  not  one  word  would  her  trembling  lips  utter, 
and  Elfie's  "Don't  cry,  Marion,"  as  she  threw 
her  arms  around  her,  broke  down  her  composure, 
and  with  the  child  in  her  arms  she  ran  out  of 
the  room,  slowly  followed  by  Candace,  whose 
dark  face  was  lit  up  with  profound  satisfaction. 
In  fact,  Candace's  delight  led  her  into  unusual 
irregularity  of  conduct,  for,  turning  as  she  was 
leaving  the  room,  she  said  : 

"  I  think  dem  young  ladies  is  de  right  sort  dis 
term,  an'  ole  mammy,  she  tanks  dem  from  de 
bottom  of  her  heart." 

Then,  with  a  dignity  that  would  have  become 
the  queen  whose  name  she  bore,  old  Candace 
bowed  low  and  followed  her  darling. 

"And  now,"  said  Mrs.  Abbott,  "I  will  read 
you,  with  her  permission,  a  letter  that  Marion 
received  to-day.  I  hope  it  will  give  you  as  much 
pleasure  as  it  has  given  me : 

"'DEAR  MARION:  I  think  you  will  be  sur- 
prised to  get  a  letter  from  me  after  the  bad 


THE  PRIZE  AWARDED.  277 

treatment  I  gave  you,  but  I  have  been  very  sick 
in  Rome,  and  for  a  long  time  the  doctors  gave 
my  mother  no  hope  that  I  would  live.  I  have 
had  a  long  time  to  think  about  every  thing  since 
I  have  been  slowly  getting  better,  and  every 
thing  looks  very  different  to  me.  One  night  when 
I  was  very  sick  I  thought  I  saw  you  crying  all 
alone  in  your  room  because  I  had  made  fun  of 
you  and  been  so  unkind,  and  I  dreamed  little 
Elfie  was  hanging  over  a  deep  pit  and  I  was 
holding  her  from  falling,  but  I  could  not  pull 
her  out  because  I  had  not  asked  you  to  forgive 
me  for  my  bad  treatment.  That  dream  came 
back  to  me  night  after  night;  it  was  terrible,  for 
I  was  always  so  afraid  I  should  let  Elfie  drop. 
The  cold  perspiration  used  to  break  out  all  over 
me  and  I  would  wake  screaming.  Then  I  would 
wish,  O,  so  hard,  that  I  could  ask  your  forgive- 
ness ;  and  now  I  am  writing  this  letter  a  little  at 
a  time,  for  I  am  very  weak,  to  ask  you  if  you  can 
ever  forgive  me.  I  have  told  my  mother  all 
about  Elfie,  and  how  it  was  my  fault,  and  how 
you  saved  her;  and  though  she  tried  not  to  have 
me  blame  myself  so  much  I  know  she  feels  very 
sorry  I  was  so  bad,  for  mamma  seems  very  dif- 
ferent since  I  was  so  sick — ever  so  much  nicer — 
and  she  has  written  to  Tiffany,  in  New  York,  to 


278  THE  FRIENDLY  FIVE. 

have  them  send  you  a  watch  and  chain  just  like 
mine. 

"  '  Dear  Marion,  will  you  say  you  forgive  me  ? 

"  '  Your  friend,  if  you  will  have  her, 

" '  EDNA.'  " 

Most  of  the  girls  were  crying  when  the  letter 
was  finished,  for  there  were  few  who  had  not 
helped  to  make  Marion's  life  among  them  very 
miserable  when  she  was  a  new  scholar,  and  loving 
her  as  they  did  now  it  was  a  very  bitter  memory. 

To  a  story  that  is  told  should  there  be  any 
thing  more  added  ?  From  a  critical  point  of  view 
after  "  lastly  "  there  should  be  no  "  in  conclu- 
sion ; "  but  the  readers  who  have  been  interested 
in  Marion  will  be  glad  to  hear  that  Mr.  Bellamy, 
whose  gratitude  was  as  unbounded  as  his  means 
were  ample,  seeing  the  love  his  grandchild  bore 
to  her,  legally  adopted  Marion  and  provided  a 
yearly  income  for  her  mother,  so  that  it  was  no 
longer  necessary  for  her  to  look  forward  to  teach- 
ing as  a  means  for  supporting  them. 

To  be  Elfie's  elder  sister,  her  loving  guide  and 
steadfast  friend,  is  Marion  Bellamy's  pleasure, 
and  the  traits  which  made  her  lovable  are  not 
dimmed  by  the  love  and  luxury  with  which  she 
is  surrounded. 


A  '"il  IIMI  illll  iHJJ  | 

000  110740 


